


Under Lock and Key

by EdenDaphne (edelet), Maerynn



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: 17 years old, Blush Fest, F/M, Fluff, Handcuffed Together, Meeting the Parents, Sleepovers, adrienette - Freeform, also some steampunk influences later on, eventual identity reveal, handcuffs are involved but it's 100 percent innocent, lots and lots of Adrienette XD, stuck together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2018-07-28
Packaged: 2018-10-31 14:35:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10901358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edelet/pseuds/EdenDaphne, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maerynn/pseuds/Maerynn
Summary: Marinette is thrilled. She's spending her afternoon at the museum with Adrien, and even Manon's unexpectedly tagging along with them can't tarnish her happiness.After all, what can go wrong for two seventeen-year-old watching over a seven-year-old?Turns out, a lot of things.(collab writer/artist fanfic)





	1. The Exhibit

**Author's Note:**

> This is an amazing collaboration between a writer and an artist! Come find us on Tumblr!  
> Maerynn (words) https://maerynn-blog.tumblr.com/  
> Edendaphne (art and original concept) https://edendaphne.tumblr.com/

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was grateful for many things.

She was grateful she had such loving and understanding folks, who trusted her to no end, therefore easing her double life in a way she never would have dared to hope. 

She was grateful for the friends she had been able to gather around her through the years, for their unwavering support through whatever crazy project she put her mind to.

At seventeen, she was grateful for the future she had laid before her, for the leisure to actually _choose_ her career path, a luxury that didn’t grace all of her classmates.

And these days, she was grateful that her best friend Alya was dating Nino Lahiffe. Because, wherever Nino went, Adrien Agreste usually followed. And despite the two long years that had passed ever since they met, Marinette was still head over heels for the blond, that had only grown more kind and more handsome.

At that precise moment, they were all seated at some quaint café, sipping on some fancy caffeinated drinks, cheerfully chatting about their days and their projects for the future. Somehow, Marinette seemed to be the only one to notice how unusually silent Adrien was on the matter, so she sensibly kept it to herself. But somewhere in the midst of hearing Alya gushing about the great journalism program she was about to enroll into and Nino ramble on just how much the music program in his first-choice-university was awesome, something within her snapped. She couldn’t bear the kicked puppy look on her crush’s face a single second longer, so she did the only logical thing and swerved the discussion on a brand new subject. “Have you guys seen the news? There’s a new expo at the Louvre, about past heroes and how they served the country. Wanna check it out with me, Alya?”

Against all odds, the redhead merely shrugged, her eyes never leaving her phone. “Meh. I’m more interested in today’s heroes. Like, did Chat Noir finally confess to Ladybug? It’s been two years for God’s sake! Surely she would have realized by now how much he loves her and is devoted to her heart and soul, wouldn’t she?”

If anyone found odd the way both Marinette and Adrien choked on air at the very same time, they didn’t feel the need to bring it up.

Whether it was solely to bring the subject back on track, or out of genuine interest, Marinette couldn’t say, but somehow she couldn’t bring herself to care when Adrien said in a somewhat subdued voice, “If you really want to see that exhibit, Marinette, we could go together. I was planning to anyway.”

“Really?” Marinette heard herself answer in an unsure voice, mentally facepalming. How lame could she get, honestly? She would probably hear an earful from Alya later on, but she really couldn’t help herself. Even if she didn’t dissolve in a stuttery mess anymore around her blond friend, her nerves were still skyrocketing whenever their discussion would stretch a little bit too long for her hard-maintained composure or if she was unlucky enough (lucky?) for their skins to brush in any possible way.

All things considered, she was quite proud of herself: she hadn’t squealed, fallen off the café bench, or ran away flailing. Yup, so far, the _“Be normal around Adrien”_ mission was a huge success.

Well, maybe not so much seeing how the young man was now looking at her expectantly, obviously waiting for some answer she couldn’t give him, having missed the last few minutes of the discussion.

“I’m sorry Adrien, I didn’t get that, I got lost in thought.” she shamefully admitted, hoping with all her might that wouldn’t ruin her chances with the handsome green-eyed young man.

He smiled, that sweet and kind smile of his that only the sun could rival in Marinette’s enamored heart. When he spoke, his voice was soft, caring, “No worries, you seemed to pretty far away just now. I asked if you wanted to go this afternoon, I’m actually free for once.”

The young woman did her best to ignore the elbow painfully nudged in her ribs, and the less-than-subtle snicker Nino lamely tried to hide as he took a sip of his Coca-Cola. Focusing on forming a coherent sentence, the blue-eyed girl smiled softly and answered in a low-key voice, “That would be perfect. Thanks, Adrien.”

This is how Marinette Dupain-Cheng found herself at the Louvre’s steps on a sunny Saturday  afternoon, looking at her crush without knowing what to do with herself. Adrien, in his infinite kindness, gently nudged her, still smiling (did this soft and subdued smile ever leave his face?), “This is nice, some friendly time without Alya and Nino playing tonsil hockey every single second they think we’re not looking.”

Marinette giggled despite herself, the awkwardness somehow still lingering between them but much less stifling all of a sudden, “They sure do that a lot, and to think they’re convinced they’re subtle!” They both chuckled, shaking their heads as they thought about their friends’ uncomfortable public display habits. “So, were you looking forward to that exhibit?”

Adrien smiled again, effectively deflecting all logical thinking from his shy but still eager friend. “Actually a lot. I think it’s a really awesome exhibit, looking back on our past heroes is something that—”

“Marinette!” a familiar voice interrupted him. “Oh thank God! Do you think you could keep an eye on Manon for me while I do this reporting gig? I’ll happily pay you double the wage I usually do. That sneaky little imp won’t stay in place for even a split second, I swear,” exclaimed an obviously relieved Nadja Chamack, barrelling down on the startled pair.

Marinette warily eyed Adrien, trying to gauge his reaction. Knowing his selfless personality, his endless kindness, she should’ve predicted what followed, “No problem, Ms. Chamack, Mari and I are going to keep tabs on this lovely little lady.”

“Oh! You’re Adrien Agreste, right? It’s a pleasure to meet you, young man. Well, I guess that if you’re one of Marinette’s friends, I can trust you as much as I trust her with my little monster. Please just try to keep Manon out of trouble, okay? She has an unsettling habit of getting herself involved in… situations.”

Regaining her composure at last, the blue-eyed girl quickly assured, “Don’t worry, Ms. Chamack, we’ll keep her safe. Do your gig, we’re going to check out the exhibit with her.”

Minutes later, while a seven-year-old Manon was busy checking out some artifacts, Adrien unexpectedly slid his hand into Marinette’s. “I hope I haven’t made you uncomfortable by answering for you, but you seem to be pretty fond of her.”

Smiling softly, trying with all her might to ignore her inner self squealing in delight at Adrien’s skin brushing her voluntarily, Marinette tried to overcome how painfully her heart was thumping in her chest and replied timidly, “Yes, I love that kid. Been babysitting her for a while now.”

Hearing those words, Adrien’s already kind expression softened considerably. “Well then, let’s make sure she has the time of her life.”

Right there and then, Marinette Dupain-Cheng fell in love all over again with Adrien Agreste.

She watched, in utter awe, as Manon seemingly got along with the blond without further hitch. He patiently listened to her incessant chatter as they walked at a leisurely pace through the exhibition, happily stopping to find the answer to her never-ending flow of questions or to look at whatever the little girl had put her fickle interest into.

It was the first time Marinette ever saw him interact with a child ever since that impromptu photo shoot in the park two years ago, and untimely fantasies of a green-eyed black-haired girl running in a white-fenced backyard with two blue-eyed blond boys came crashing back on her all at once. Gosh, this man was going to be an amazing father, and the thought made her insides churn in a delightful yet problematic way. How could she ever hope to keep her composure around Adrien if her mind was busy making up future plans?

She tried to shake those thoughts away as she followed the adorably enthusiastic pair to a specific kiosk, still smiling to herself before the scene. Adrien and Manon were gushing over the various artifacts that were laid on a table for them to examine and mess around with. It was something unusual to actually be allowed to touch anything in a museum, and Manon was bouncing out of excitement knowing she wouldn’t get grounded for playing around with really old and precious things.

In retrospect, knowing the mischievous little imp tendencies as well as she did, Marinette should have been wary of her whereabouts and should have kept a closer eye on her. But Adrien’s presence beside them kept distracting the blue-eyed girl, her mind filled with his explanations about how and why a certain veteran had left his imprint in France’s history, and she left her guard down for a moment — a fatal mistake.

Because when Marinette finally snapped back to reality, it was to the cold sensation of metal clasping around her right wrist. Effectively startled out of her daydreams, Marinette looked down to see at first a very smug Manon, and then some iron handcuffs safely locked on her arm.

As well as on Adrien’s left one.

“I’ve caught the baddies! I’m a superhero!” boasted the little girl, completely oblivious to her babysitter’s sudden inner turmoil.

“Great job, Manon. Now can you hand me the key so I can set us free?” Marinette asked in what she hoped was a calm and composed voice.

“Uh-oh.” answered the seven-year-old with a droopy look, shoulders slumping in sudden realisation.

Never before had four letters sent a shot of panic through Marinette like those did and she froze, refusing to acknowledge what Manon’s sheepish expression truly meant. Hopefully, Adrien was quick to catch on, “Let me guess, there was no key on the table?”

The little girl shook her head, tears quickly welling up in her eyes.

“Don’t cry, Manon, we’ll find a solution. Maybe we can break them off?” Marinette tentatively reassured her, trying her best to ignore her own panic rising in her chest.

“Let’s find an employee that could help us, they probably put the key elsewhere for safekeeping,” offered Adrien, his kind smile never wavering despite their less than ideal situation.

Walking with someone attached to you was a new experience in itself. Being a model, Adrien was used to walk in long, efficient strides, while Marinette, being considerably shorter, usually had to make smaller, faster ones, and keeping up with each other was a unique challenge. Being his gentlemanly self, the young man tried his best to slow down for her sake, which she was infinitely grateful for.

The first security guard they approached merely shrugged his shoulders, stating that he had no business with the experimental kiosk. Asking for directions to someone who could actually help them did no good either, the man sighing heavily before uttering through clenched teeth that the museum’s dean was likely somewhere in the building, surveying the whole exhibit.

With a little help from Manon (throwing a tantrum over how sorry she was was always a good and efficient way to attract attention), and Adrien’s outstanding social skills despite his sheltered childhood, they eventually managed to get a hold of the dean in another part of the museum. The elderly woman eyed them warily while she listened to their explanation about their “situation” before sighing with obvious concern, “They seem to be rather old artifacts to me. They certainly weren’t meant to be a part of the experimental kiosk. We’ll have to find someone able to remove them without damaging them.”

Dread instantly filled Marinette’s core. She didn’t like where the conversation was headed. “Can’t we just cut them off with some metal saw?”

“Certainly not!” squealed the lady, obviously offended they even had thought of it. “Do you kids even have an idea about how much these could be worth? Given their antique look and the way the metal is still in pristine condition to this day, it would be complete madness to damage them in any way. I don’t think they even still have a key; once I find the person that put them there, their job is on the line. This is a serious safety hazard! Not to mention they could have been altered, or even worse, stolen! You two go sit over there while I make a phone call or two.”

Marinette let Adrien navigate them to a nearby bench, her insides painfully churning in apprehension. She was barely starting to manage small conversations with her crush; asking her to be functional in close proximity to him for an extended time was expecting way too much out of her.

Before she could dwell too much on her worries, though, said crush gently nudged her in the ribs, forcing her to awkwardly extend her arm toward him in the process, “Don’t worry, Mari. A locksmith is a _key_ man to have on your side, after all!”

Shocked, Marinette blankly stared at him for a second, bringing her arm back to herself, which tugged uncomfortably on the blond’s arm. She blinked, processing his words, and brought her right hand to her mouth (which _also_ brought Adrien’s hand along. This would need some adjustment), “Did… Did you just make a pun?”

Grinning, the young man nodded eagerly. His familiar green eyes lit up with mischief as he leaned toward her, “Hey, I have a plan! I should take you to my barber, this man is amazing when it comes to cutting _locks._ ”

That was the last straw. The ridicule of their situation, her on-edge nerves around Adrien added to the untimely realization that, apparently, her long-term crush shared an uncanny love of bad puns with her dear partner, that was all taking his toll on her, and she lost it. She burst out laughing, a hearty laugh that made Adrien’s already more than wide smile grow even bigger. “Never knew you liked puns that much, Mari!” he added, visibly smug.

Whatever Marinette had been about to retort, she was cut short by the museum’s dean approaching them. “You’re in luck, kids. I managed to get a hold of a specialized locksmith competent enough to remove the handcuffs without damaging them. He’ll be able to come two business days from now.”

“TWO DAYS?” asked Marinette and Adrien in perfect sync, completely taken aback by the rather unsettling news.

The museum’s dean slightly frowned, readjusting her glasses on her nose. “Well, yes. Specialists like Mr. Clavier are in very high demand, you can’t expect him to abandon his tightly packed schedule for two teenagers who played with centuries-old handcuffs.”

This time, when Marinette’s eyes met Adrien’s, his expression exactly mirrored hers.

They were screwed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ BEFORE YOU COMMENT!
> 
> While we appreciate your enthusiasm when it comes to our project, you have to realize when you ask for the next update, you put unwelcome and counterproductive pressure on us.
> 
> We are both moms. Eden has a 5 year-old boy and a 6 year-old princess, while Maerynn has a 3 year-old little man and a 6 year-old little girl. Maerynn is working full time as a pharmacy technician, and Eden makes a living out of her commissions. Under Lock and Key is our hobby, something we do for fun and relax.
> 
> If it were only text, it would probably be done by now. But we chose another path, a path with awesome pictures to go with the text and show you our vision of the story, to make it feel more alive. And these things take time.
> 
> While we would like to update once a month, it's unrealistic. Maerynn needs about two weeks to come up with a chapter and having it beta'ed (friendly reminder that she has two others fics running, The Other You with Totally_Lucky and Bring Me Home, on top of one-shots and sporadic projects.) Eden, on her part, needs three to four weeks to do illustrations that meets her minimum quality requirements (again, friendly reminder that Eden lives of commissions, and is also doing When Duty and Desire Meet with MidnightStarlightWrites).
> 
> For those reasons, expecting an update once every six to eight weeks would be more realistic. We do realize it's a huge amount of time between updates, but we both want you guys to get the best we can do instead of an half-assed job.
> 
> Keep reading, keep commenting. We love you guys, and we're excited to share this story with you <3


	2. Sleepover

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys for the long wait! Life (and vacation) got in the way on both ends, but here it is now!
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Adrien watched, bemused, as Marinette utterly deflated beside him. Her shoulders slumped, her eyes (had they always been so blue?) filled with tears, “T-two days?” she stammered weakly, avoiding his gaze, “but … how-how are we going to pull this off?”

He kept his own jittery nerves in check, fishing his phone from his pockets. “Hold on, I’ll check with Natalie to see if she can do something.” Typing a quick text explaining their awkward situation, he glanced back at his upset friend, sighing dejectedly, “Look Mari, I know the situation isn’t ideal, and you probably aren’t looking forward to spending two entire days with me, but if it comes down to it, I’m sure we can figure something out so I’m as little a nuisance to you as possible.”

Horrified, Marinette suddenly flailed, bringing his own arm into an uncomfortable pull, “Whoa, whoa! Where did that c-come from? Why-why would you think you’d be a nuisance to me? I enjoy spending time with you!” she squealed out so fast that Adrien had troubles figuring out what she had said.

Surprised by her statement, he stared at her, “You do? Cause this whole handcuffs thing seems to upset you a lot, and I really liked my afternoon with you, so it’s not _that_ bad.”

Marinette finally found the courage to look at him in the eyes, and smiled warmly, “Nah you’re right. Sorry. I-I tend to overthink everything, and I might have a slight anxiety problem.”

Adrien’s phone rang at that precise second, and his eyes widened considerably upon seeing the caller, “Ah… It’s my father, I have to take this.”

As soon as he pressed the green button on the screen, Marinette could hear Gabriel Agreste’s stern voice blaring through the speakers, “ _You were supposed to be home by now, where are you, Adrien? And what is this nonsense about getting handcuffed with some girl?”_

The young man looked at his friend warily, but she was still smiling at him, not taking offense of his father’s harsh words. He mouthed “Sorry” toward her, and then cleared his throat, “It’s as I texted Natalie, Father. There’s been a mishap with some artifact, and we’re attached together until some specialized locksmith frees us, on Tuesday morning.”

They heard the older Agreste grunt on the other side of the line before replying dryly, “ _How inconvenient. Obviously you’ll have to skip fencing, but we can’t reschedule tomorrow’s photoshoot. We’ll have to work around this … little problem. I’ll have Natalie see if she can find someone to do the job earlier. What do you plan to do in the meantime?”_

Adrien looked at Marinette expectantly, and she sighed, defeated, “I’m guessing we’ll have to sleep at each other’s place. Can you come at my place tonight? I have to explain this mess to my parents, and we could go to yours tomorrow.”

_“Sounds reasonable, miss—?”_

“Marinette,” Adrien provided, “she won a few of your contests.”

“ _Ah, yes. Well, then, Natalie will keep you updated should she manage to get you out of this … situation sooner than those museum incompetents. I hope you’re aware that I’m not pleased at all, Adrien.”_

The young man cringed, before answering, “I expected as much, father. I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

The call was disconnected, and Marinette stared at her friend, gaping. “Wow. That was … something.”

Adrien shrugged, smiling dismissively. “Don’t mind him. He can be cold sometimes.”

The young woman nodded, trying to repress the feeling of wrongness pooling in her stomach. Was that something Adrien had to go through on a daily basis? Did anyone provide any warmth in his life at all?

Her unpleasant thoughts were cut short by Nadja coming back to retrieve her daughter and apologizing profusely to the imprisoned pair on Manon’s behalf. After assuring her many times that there was no harm done, and that neither of them held a grudge, Adrien and Marinette decided to start the awkward trek to the Dupain-Cheng bakery.

Sadly for Marinette’s nerves that were already skyrocketing, they soon figured that the less awkward way of walking side by side was to hold hands. As they walked, she tried to force her brain to focus on his words, and not on the pleasant sensation of his warm hand firmly holding hers.

How many times had she dreamed of that precise moment?

Granted, in her dreams he was holding her hand on his own accord, and not because it made their predicament easier to bear, but it was close enough.

Adrien was chatting cheerfully about everything and nothing, and she listened politely, nodding and humming her answers, up until she picked up on a particular sentence.

Eagerly, the blond had smiled at her, “So, this is my first time spending the night at a friend’s. Is there anything I should know beforehand?”

Marinette stopped dead in her tracks, tugging on their joined hands, “What do mean? You never had a sleepover before?”

He shook his head sheepishly. “I… I never had many friends, so all I know about sleepovers is what they show in movies. And I mean, I’m not against braiding your hair and painting your nails, but it might look a bit messy.”

The same unpleasant feeling she had felt upon hearing the cold, impersonal tone his father had used to address his very own son pooled in her stomach, and she gaped at him. “This … this is unacceptable. We must remedy this right now!”

Adrien laughed at her horrified antics, and led the way toward her house, “Well then, teach me how to sleepover properly, senpai.”

At that moment, the odd pair reached the bakery’s door, and Marinette paused on the threshold, taking a deep breath. “So, the thing is, girls and boys don’t usually do sleepovers together, it’s considered inappropriate. My dad might not be too thrilled with the idea, but don’t worry too much, he’s basically a big teddy bear.”

He nodded, looking at her a bit warily. Marinette visibly braced herself and pushed the door open, tugging him along. As soon as they were through the door, her mother squealed happily, “Marinette! Adrien! What a pleasant surprise! Are you staying for dinner, dear? A teenager like you needs to eat a lot to cope with the growth spurts, I’d love you to try what we’re having tonight. Are you coming to play video ga—Are those handcuffs?”

Marinette froze, holding both of their hands up with a sheepish smile, “Um… Manon kinda played with valuable artifacts at the museum? And they can’t cut us free?”

To both teenagers’ surprise, Sabine burst out laughing. “Oh gosh, Marinette, these kinds of things only ever happen to you,” she managed to say in between laughs, “Tom, come and see what mess our lovely daughter has gotten into this time.”

 

The imposing man exited the kitchen, a wide grin on his face upon noticing their little problem. “You know, son, if you liked our lovely daughter that much, all you had to do was ask. You didn’t have to put her under lock and key.”

“DAD!” squeaked Marinette, red as a fire truck.

Adrien felt his own skin burning, so it wasn’t too far-fetched to assume his complexion must match hers. He reached for her hand and squeezed her fingers comfortingly, a gesture that didn’t escape her parents’ eyes. Luckily for them, they were done with their teasing, and Sabine sent them upstairs to check on the cooking dinner.

Once they were safely hidden behind the apartment door, Marinette rested her forehead on the wall, her shoulders shaking uncontrollably. Concerned, Adrien asked tentatively, “Hey, are you okay?”

This was more than the young woman could take. She broke down in stitches, laughing so much she had to clutch her ribs with her free hand. “This … this … is … ridiculous…” she managed to choke out in between her laughs.

Adrien gaped at her for a second, before joining in. She was right: the whole situation was simply ridiculous, far from the drama his father evidently thought it to be, far from the nerve-racking mess they had both considered it to be at first. Her parents’ lighthearted reaction was a breath of fresh air and had cast a new light on their predicament.

After all, he thought to himself, if he could defeat akumas on a weekly basis, he could handle spending two days with a cute classma—where the hell did that come from?

Marinette distracted him from his wandering thoughts, showing him how to tell if the rice was properly cooked, and explaining how a slow cooker and a rice cooker worked. “My mom loves those,” she said, “because they allow her to cook dinner safely and still help Papa downstairs.”

Tom and Sabine joined them shortly after, and they all took a seat at the table with joyful banter. Dinner was spent in a comfortable conversation, Adrien and Tom happily exchanging pun after pun while an annoyed Marinette kept toying with her food. After a while, the blond noticed that she had barely eaten at all and inquired, worried, “Is everything okay, Mari?”

Surprised, the young woman’s eyes widened, “Oh! Um, yeah, why?”

“You almost didn’t touch your plate,” Adrien pointed out, raising a curious eyebrow.

Marinette spluttered, blushing deeply, “I—um, I can’t use chopsticks.”

Biting back a laughter, Tom said, “What do you mean, cupcake? You’ve been eating with chopsticks ever since you were in diapers. What’s wrong?”

Marinette’s blush intensified, and for a second, Adrien felt sorry for his friend. She raised her right hand, bringing his up in the motion, “Yeah, with my _good_ hand. I’m as far as can be from being ambidextrous, and those stupid chopsticks refuse to cooperate.”

Her pout was adorable, honestly, and Adrien smiled at her, “Do you want me to help you? I lucked out, I still have my good hand free.”

Marinette was now a shade of red he honestly didn’t know existed. She squealed, hiding her face in her free arm. That’s the moment her father chose to take pity on his offspring, and handed her a fork, still obviously trying (and failing) to suppress his laughter.

The remaining of the meal was without any further embarrassing incidents, even considering Tom’s hopelessly shaking shoulders, indicating that he still found humor in the teenagers’ unfortunate situation.

Once Marinette had finally managed to eat properly and Adrien was full to his contentment, the young woman looked at him slyly, “Sleepover noob, and model on a ridiculous diet. I guess you never made popcorn?”

It was Adrien’s turn to blush this time, admitting reluctantly, “Save from the stuff you can buy at the theater, I never had any popcorn, no.”

Unbeknownst to him, Marinette was currently _really_ busy giving herself a _serious_ pep talk. If she had to spend the following two days in close quarters with her long-term crush, she was going to make the most of it, or she wasn’t Ladybug! “ _Come on, Marinette_ ,” she internally chastised herself, “ _you’re a superheroine. You can do this. Just imagine you’re talking to Chat Noir! You can talk to him just fine!_ ”

Pulling some corn kernels from the pantry along with fresh oil, Marinette somehow managed to get her anxiety in check and stated in a voice way more assured than she felt, “Okay, so the first step is to heat the oil in a wok.”

He blanched, looking at her with bedazzled eyes, “We’re really doing it from scratch then?”

Marinette chuckled, gently nudging him, “Well, yeah? What did you expect?”

“No, this is fine. I like this,” he answered, carefully putting the pan on the burner. “What now?”

She dropped a few kernels in the pan, smiling, “Now we wait for them to pop.”

They fell in a comfortable silence, both of them carefully watching over the heating pan, Adrien absentmindedly searching for her tied hand between them. He unconsciously clasped it, neither of them willing to mention that, despite the unexpected weirdness of it all, there was something also comforting about it.

Seconds later, the few kernels she had dropped into the pan popped, prompting an over eager young man to squeal inelegantly, “They popped! Mari! They popped! Now what?”

She smiled, adding a handful of kernels to the pot and moving it out of the fire. “Now, we wait about thirty seconds so the heat is distributed evenly. Then we put it back on the burner, and enjoy the fireworks.”

Waiting those thirty seconds might have been the hardest thing to do in Adrien’s life just yet. For, in those thirty long seconds, he had nothing better to do than to stare at his friend.

Honestly, had she always harbored magnificent blue eyes like that? Had her lips always held that rosy, plump look? Had she always looked that pretty, yet unabashed? So kissable?

A string of loud “pops!”, followed by the cutest squeal ever on her part tore him away from those unholy thoughts. Marinette poured the popcorn in a wide bowl, grinning at him shyly, “There we go! Your very first homemade popcorn!”

He smiled at her absently, the same smile he reserved for photographers, one that was a reflex, not a genuine one. He was still trying to process her smile, the way it unexpectedly turned his insides to jelly as she poured a lot more butter and salt into their snack than his dietician would’ve deemed reasonable.

The trek to her bedroom was surprisingly easy, given their predicament. They managed to make it up the stairs and through her trapdoor without breaking anything or losing precious popcorn.

They sat side by side on her chaise and Adrien carefully set the miraculously spared bowl of popcorn on the floor. “Okay, now what? Is this the part where I braid your hair?” Adrien asked, chuckling.

Marinette sighed, looking at him dejectedly, “Usually we would change into our pajamas, and yes when I do this with Alya she often plays around a bit with my hair while we watch a movie but—”

“Great! Let’s do that!”

His enthusiasm was cute, Marinette had to admit, but they still had a tiny problem.

“Okay. How?” she deadpanned, gesturing to their bound hands.

“Oh. Um. Right.”

Marinette rubbed her temple with her free hand, sighing pensively, “No, wait, there must be a solution. I can just undo the stitches on the seam beneath your locked arm, and sew something clean on you tomorrow morning. I have a few works-in-progress that would fit you, and redoing the seam on your t-shirt is a matter of minutes. Yeah, that could work.”

Adrien watched, amazed, as the gears seemingly clicked in his friend’s mind in an oddly familiar manner, and listened, amused, as she continued to ramble to herself, “Actually, even better, I could sew buttons on the side of those, so you’d be able to get in and out of it without troubles tomorrow, and—”

“What about you?” he asked, genuinely curious.

Her attention snapped back to him, and she blushed, “I have a few halter tops that will do the trick, but undoing the seam on my own shirt with my wrong hand will take longer. I’ll just do it while we watch the movie, that’s no big deal.”

“Just show me how, I’ll do it.”

A choked out agreement and a mental pep talk later, Marinette found herself kneeling beside Adrien, repeating like a mantra in her mind, _“That’s fine. Imagine that this is Chat Noir. You have no problem touching Chat Noir, right? This is no different.”_

 

With Adrien’s patient cooperation, the seam of his familiar white overshirt came undone under her expert fingers within minutes, and his black t-shirt quickly followed the same path. The only thing keeping Marinette from self-combusting at the sight of the blond model standing in her bedroom clad in only his jeans and socks was focusing on his technique as he in turn removed the stitches of her jacket, quite efficiently for a first timer albeit slower than she had been.

When he moved onto her t-shirt with an apologetic smile, she crossed her arms in front of her, holding the fabric covering her chest. Both of them were beet red by that point, the awkwardness of their situation far from lost on them. At last, the last stitch surrendered under Adrien’s steady attack, and he drew back as much as the handcuffs allowed him.

“Okay, do you have something to cover my eyes? While you change? I… I wouldn’t peek, but I kinda want to survive should either of your parents come upstairs right now.”

“...Right.” _Imagine it’s Chat. It’s just your silly kitty, nothing to see there!_ “Um, there’s a scarf on my desk, could you grab it because…” she trailed off, unsure of what was more ridiculous: being flustered at the sight of some skin she had previously seen plenty of times in magazines, or clutching at her shirt for dear life like it was some sort of shield between her and her amazing, handsome, kind fr—

Okay, challenge of the night: keep her wandering thoughts in check.

Adrien blissfully distracted her from the dangerous path she had taken by coughing uncomfortably, “Okay, eyes closed and covered, you can change safely, Mari.”

Her face still burning from embarrassment, Marinette did as instructed as quickly as she could considering the estranged hand following each and every single of her motion. Despite being extra careful of keeping the offending appendage away from inappropriate parts of her body, she still managed to change into some yoga pants and a hot pink halter top … which posed another problem.

Holding the fabric against her breasts, the young woman sighed dejectedly at the third failed attempt to properly tie the garment at the back of her neck. Sensing the sudden shift in his friend's mood, Adrien piped up tentatively, “Everything alright out there?”

She groaned, letting the fastenings of her top fall loosely against the skin of her back, “Yes, I just can’t tie this stupid bow with your hand dangling from mine like a dead weight and I can’t see what I’m doing.”

Adrien giggled, unable to help himself. There she was, the feisty and sassy Marinette he had seen many times from afar but never encountered himself. As of lately, the young woman seemed to open up around him, her former shyness subduing more and more as they hung out a lot with Alya and Nino. The more she became at ease around him, the more he discovered the Marinette everyone knew and loved … and the more oddly and inexplicably familiar she began to strike him.

Pushing those thoughts aside, he offered, “Is it safe to look? Maybe the dead weight and I could help you out?”

“Knock yourself out,” she grumbled, and this time Adrien did laugh. The same unbound laugh that had caught her by surprise in the rain two years prior, and yet a laugh that reminded her of something else she couldn’t quite pin. She ignored the pleasant tingling feeling on the nape of her neck as he effectively tied the offending garment, blush returning full blow to her face.

It was then her turn to get blindfolded, for good measure, after providing her friend with a pair of bright pink jogging pants too big for her but that still sat halfway up his calf, along with a t-shirt she quickly altered beforehand. It gave her a few minutes to compose herself. _You’re doing well. Keep imagining it’s just Chat Noir. Not Adrien, your hopeless crush of two years, just your silly pun master of a partner._

“Okay, choose your poison,” Marinette smirked once they were both properly clothed, handing him three DVD boxes. “We have _Sleeping Beauty, Mulan,_ or _Tangled._ ”

To her sheer astonishment, Adrien instantly reached for the latter, grinning. “Hey! I _love_ this one! The songs are so great and the story is really good!”

“Very well, a singing blonde for Mr. Blond,” she answered, before freezing and blushing deeply. For a second, she had forgotten which of the green-eyed blonds of her life was currently standing next to her, seemingly taken aback by her answer.

Oblivious to her inner mortification, Adrien then burst out laughing heartily, watching her start the movie with teary eyes, “Nice one, Mari, I never saw it coming.” The opening credits of the movie rolled onto the screen, and they made their way back to the chaise. Marinette reached for their discarded popcorn bowl and set it between them, looking at the screen intently, a small smile dancing on her lips.

That’s when the young man noticed something odd about his friend.

Adrien knew nothing about being a girl. He had been, for all of his seventeen years of existence, a boy in every sense of the word. But his upbringing meant he knew a thing or two about fashion, hence why he uttered shyly, “Um. Mari? Do you usually sleep with your pigtails? Wouldn’t that be uncomfortable?”

She looked at him like a deer caught in headlights, clutching her plush to her chest like a shield. “I… I don’t usually do, but with my good hand impaired and everything, I mean, I’d also like you to survive the evening.”

He chuckled, holding his hand out, “Allow me?”

She gaped at him, processing his words, “Wait, what?”

“Well, you did say earlier that I’m supposed to play with your hair ,” he said softly, “and I’d hate for you being uncomfortable all night because of me.”

Reluctantly, Marinette reached forward to grab her hairbrush, the uncomfortable tug of the handcuffs a constant reminder of their presence, and handed it to him before presenting him her back as much as she could.

While Rapunzel was singing about her busy life in the background, Adrien carefully removed the ribbons from her hair, ever so mindful of her hand tied to his, and gently brushed the dark strands of hair that fell in her back. They both absentmindedly watched the action unfold on the screen, distracted as they were by what transpired between them both.

After a while, Adrien set the hairbrush aside, asking softly, “Why don’t you ever let your hair down? It’s beautiful.”

Blushing furiously, _Just Chat, Mari, imagine it’s just Chat. NOT ADRIEN,_ yet again, Marinette averted her gaze from his and mumbled, “Because it’s always in the way otherwise. It’s more practical that way.”

As she spoke, she reached forward to help herself to some popcorn (and hopefully alleviate the thick tension in her room).

However, Adrien had the exact same idea at the exact same second.

Their heads collided with each other, hard, and the recoil sent them both off the chaise in a mess of tangled limbs. Marinette found herself lying on her back on the wooden floor, Adrien somehow straddling her hips, his right hand craddling her head, taking the brunt of their fall. Their bound hands laid near her head as he rested most of his weight on his left arm. 

In retrospect, he should have been racking his brain for an apology, trying to get them out of that compromising position right away. But Adrien instead found himself staring into her bluebell eyes, marveling at the quiet beauty of his shy classmate.

Absentmindedly, Adrien licked his lips, still hopelessly lost in Marinette’s gaze, mentally making the list of his friend’s wonderful qualities. She was so kind, fierce, creative, funny, selfless, pretty…

He leaned in, their eyes fluttering closed.

That’s conveniently the exact moment Rapunzel and her thugs chose to begin blaring “ _I’ve Got a Dream”_ through the television speakers, startling them both out of the unexpected spell that had surrounded them.

Adrien awkwardly scrambled to his feet, careful of not resting his weight on her as he did so, and he helped her up. Desperately trying to defuse the discomfort weighing unpleasantly between the odd pair, he took advantage of the upbeat song to take both of her hands into his and start wiggling his hips along the music ridiculously.

“Come on, Mari, dance with me!”

Marinette snapped out of her pensive daze, looking at his playful yet somehow shy and unsure smile. She giggled, following him effortlessly into his antics.

At the end of the song, both friends dropped onto the chaise, breathless and laughing. Popcorn long forgotten on the floor, they quickly agreed that the most comfortable position to watch the movie unfortunately involved some cuddling.

(No, that wasn’t because Marinette wanted to lie in his arms. Neither was it because Adrien quite liked the warm fuzzy feeling pleasantly fluttering in his chest as she did so.)

By the time _“I See the Light”_ played, Adrien glanced down at his friend, and smiled as he noticed her half-shut eyes and slowed, deep breathing. His heartbeat was slowly but surely lulling her to sleep, and he quickly found himself thinking that she was adorable like that.

By the end of the movie, Marinette was sound asleep against his chest, her free arm wrapped around his back. Adrien’s right hand rested lazily in the curve of her waist, his head resting against hers and their tied hands holding each other in his lap.

Unbeknownst to them, two kwamis were sleeping on Marinette’s shelf, also snuggled up.


	3. Photoshoot

The sound that left Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s lips upon waking up snuggled against Adrien Agreste’s chest the next morning was previously unknown to the human ear.

Sadly enough, it wasn’t Adrien’s most unpleasant wake up call to that day (try having your father’s assistant wake you up at three a.m. while you’re stark naked, with news of a photoshoot where you’ll have to dress up as a panda. In August.)

Nonetheless, waking up to the warm, soft and screeching body of Marinette’s snuggled against his chest effortlessly ranked amongst his five most favorite wake up calls of all times. She was curled up against him, her eyes still somehow soft and caring despite the unholy scream that had just left her lips.

Horrified, Marinette instantly clasped her hands over her lips, ignoring how Adrien’s smacked her in the face as she squealed inelegantly, “Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry!”

Laughing heartily, Adrien grinned at her. “No biggie, Mari. Though I think I might’ve gone deaf.”

“OH MY GOSH I’M SO SORRY, your father is going to hate me and then I will never work in fashion and—”

“Mari,” Adrien cut her rambling short, “I’m just kidding. No one’s going deaf, no one’s gonna hate you, and it’s still really early. You can sleep a little more, then we’re going to get up, get dressed and have a nice breakfast with your parents before heading to my photoshoot.”

Even her impromptu pillow (commonly known as Adrien’s chest) couldn’t muffle Marinette pitiful whimper upon hearing the friendly jab, which prompted a loud chuckle from Adrien. Groaning, she buried herself further into the chaise, blushing deeply.

“Adrien, it’s too early for this. Actually, this entire lifetime is too early for this. I’ll just go back to sleep for a few years now, okay?”

He chuckled lightly, fully expecting her to resume her freaking out. However, the very early hour coupled with the excitement of the previous day quickly claimed her back, and despite her best intentions she drifted back to sleep against his chest, dozing off peacefully until her alarm finally rang about an hour later. Adrien, who had spent that time reveling into the warm cosiness of her room, chuckled lightly when she groaned upon hearing the familiar sound. It then took a bit of coaxing on his part, but eventually he managed to get her out of her chaise and make the perilous journey down the stairs.

Landing eyes on both teens, Sabine smiled warmly at them. “Morning Sunshines! Slept well?”

“A few sore muscles from the odd position of our arms, but unscathed otherwise,” Adrien answered as he and Marinette sat down, the latter barely able to put a foot in front of the other.

“Oh, by the way, son,” her mother said. “Your father’s assistant called earlier to ask if you needed anything in order to get ready for the day. I let her know that Marinette and you had perfectly handled the clothing issue, and that Tom and I were more than able of providing anything else you would need,” Sabine stated matter-of-factly as she placed a full plate in front of Adrien.

He gasped, staring at Marinette’s mother with an incredulous gaze. “How did you know Mari and I had sorted out the _getting dressed_ problem?”

Sabine smiled, turning her back on the young man to prepare another plate for her daughter. “I know my daughter, Adrien. She’s a talented seamstress, and she’s the most resourceful young lady I’ve ever seen.”

“Mama, stop bothering Adrien,” Marinette’s voice came, somewhat muffled from in between her crossed arms on the counter. “And please stop talking like I’m not here. I’m sleeping, not dead.”

Gently tugging on her hand to pull it from under her forehead and free his hand, Adrien nudged her playfully. “Hey Sleeping Beauty, we’re going to be late if you don’t hurry up and eat.”

Grumbling, Marinette shot her bad hand forward, her head dropping on the counter with a loud thud. Bites of her breakfast traveled steadily from her plate to what he assumed to be her mouth, veiled by a curtain of black hair. If a few spoonfuls missed their originally intended trajectory and hit her nose instead, he was none the wisest—that she’d know, at least.

Adrien tore his gaze away from his friend and chuckled as he began to eat his own meal, “Is she always like this?”

“In the morning?” Sabine asked. “This is an easy morning per our standards. I usually have to wake her up once or twice _after_ her alarm goes—”

“Still not dead!” Marinette protested, earning herself a hearty laugh from both her mother and Adrien. The remaining of the breakfast went into a comfortable chatter between the fully awake pair, while Marinette slowly roused to reach some semblance of awareness.

Once they were both sated and she was finally a fully functional human being again, they went back to her room to get ready for the day. The skills they had developed just the night before came in handy, both of them sliding into their newfound routine like a well-oiled machine as Adrien blindfolded himself in a heartbeat to let Marinette quickly slip into a sleeveless summer dress, before she returned the favor as he put on his jeans and a shirt she had previously altered for him to accommodate their predicament. He brushed her hair confidently, lending her a helpful hand to tie them into a simple bun, while she finished fastening the buttons on his sleeve that he couldn’t reach.

They miraculously managed to escape unscathed from Tom and Sabine fussing over them as they left the bakery, and as they walked down the street hand in hand ( _Keep imagining this is Chat Noir, Marinette!)_ they chatted casually about everything that came to mind, from his fencing, her designing projects, his piano lessons to her earliest experiences in baking.

As Marinette was relating a particularly funny anecdote about how she had managed to make an entire flour bag explode on herself at the age of four, Adrien gently squeezed her fingers in his, a forlorn smile dancing on his lips.

“You and your parents seem to be pretty close,” he said softly.

Her heart clenched painfully in her chest, and she mentally cursed herself. Why did she have to be so insensitive? “I’m sorry, Adrien, I shouldn’t have said any—”

“No!” he cut her off hastily. “I really like your house, actually. It feels really homey, and your parents have been really cool with me.”

Marinette smiled at him as they reached the Trocadero. “Yeah, they’re really great. You know, I really look up to them.”

“Dreaming of taking the reins of the bake- huh?”

An assistant hurried toward them, cutting Adrien off. “There you are Adrien! We’re setting up the equipment in that alley, over there. You and your friend are expected for hair and makeup in two.”

Multiple things happened at once the moment those words registered in the teens mind. Marinette froze right on the spot, and Adrien stumbled over thin air. Both of them stared blankly at the assistant, before Marinette managed to stammer, “I’m s-sorry? I’m expected for w-what?”

Directing them to a nearby alley between two tall brick buildings, the crew member sighed exasperated, “We can’t cut those handcuffs, and you know how much Mr. Agreste hates unnecessary photoshop. He asked us to include the young lady in the photoshoot. Hurry up, kids, we’re wasting precious time here.”

Marinette blushed deeply, but seeing the smile that lit up Adrien’s entire face, she couldn’t bring herself to let him down. Pushing her apprehensions away, she smiled softly. “I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all we can ask from you, I guess,” answered the assistant with yet another sigh, before vanishing in the crowd.

A few tents and work stations were scattered around the street, and from their point of vantage they could see Pierre, the photographer, setting up his spots. Marinette and Adrien wordlessly followed the directions to a privacy screen that had been cut in half to allow them to rest their joined hands over it comfortably, with crew members buzzing on either side like bees in a hive.

The second a makeup artist spotted them, they were quickly coaxed on both sides of the screen, pushed into high-back chairs and instructed to stay as still as possible. While her hairdresser tugged less than gently on the band securing her bun, she remembered Adrien’s earlier question.

“I don’t plan on following my parents’ steps,” she said softly, unsure if he would hear her at all amongst the ambient cacophony. “If you’re looking at my professional aspirations, your father is more along the right lines. I’m … my parents have been together for a really long time, you know, and yet they still look at each other like they’re their own little universe, you know? I want that, I want someone to love like that someday, and I’m rambling again, sorry.”

Adrien’s laugh came from the other side of the screen, unbidden. Memories of another time, on a rainy day, another laugh and an umbrella flashed at the forefront of her mind and Marinette found herself blushing deeply. She dutifully ignored the knowing smirks of the makeup artists, and tried to keep her furiously beating heart in check.

On his part, Adrien was thinking about Marinette’s word choice. She hadn’t said that she wanted someone to _love her._ She was looking up at her parents, and dreamed of _loving_ someone like that. That made his head slightly dizzy, his heart suddenly longing painfully.

An exasperated sigh from his hairdresser brought him back to reality, and he chased those ideas at the back of his mind.

Until the moment the assistants lowered the privacy screen between them. Adrien knew right then and there that he was totally and utterly _screwed._

Marinette had always been a pretty girl, downright adorable, even.

But right this second, she was smoking _hot._

They had cladded her in a form-fitting pitch black corset laced at the front by a neon green satin ribbon. The curve of her legs was enhanced by matching leather leggings with an opening slit on the outer side. A green plaid mini-skirt was blissfully hiding her assets from the world, otherwise Adrien wasn’t quite sure that his thoughts wouldn’t have taken a dangerous and rather inappropriate path. A wide belt rested on her hips, accentuating the sinful curve of her waist.

She wore flat military boots tied up with a green string, and a strip of black leather enhanced with a silver heart circled her neck, making the line of her jaw pop up. Her left wrist was decorated by various silver chains and leather stud bracelets.

The hairdressing crew had teased her hair on the top of her head in a messy updo, creating a faux mohawk that only added to the definite rock’n’roll vibe they had been striving for. The makeup artist hadn’t done a half-assed job either, making her unique blue eyes pop beautifully with stunning black and gray smoky eyes. Her lips were painted a shade of red that suddenly seemed to scream _danger_ to Adrien.

Had breathing always been this hard?

Little did he know, Marinette was having a crisis of her own, staring at him as she tried to keep her furiously beating heart in check.

Adrien was as far as one could get from the proper young man he was at all times.

He was wearing black jeans adorned with a flashy silver zipper and red seams. They hung in just the right spot on his hips, making Marinette drool uncontrollably at the mouth-watering sight. His boots matched hers, loosely laced with a ruby-red lace. His muscular chest (how could he be sexier in a shirt than without, honestly?) was enhanced by a form-fitting black shirt with a collar that pooled into a loose turtleneck on his shoulders. The hairdressers had brushed his hair into a swept back updo that made his long blond locks look like a mohawk, and a fine line of pitch black eyeliner made the rich shade of his green eyes look even deeper.

But what really took the cake, at least in Marinette’s opinion, was his black leather jacket. It made his shoulders seem even broader than they were to begin with, and the fine scarlet stripe going down his right sleeve made Marinette gulp in recognition. The left sleeve was ripped right below the shoulder, fastened with a line of small buttons, adding a dangerous edge to the outfit.

“Is… Is this a Ladybug themed photoshoot?”

The photographer sighed loudly, “We had to work around that lovely handiwork you put yourself in, Adrien. We were supposed to do the Victorian shoot today, but since you managed to handcuff yourself to this lovely young lady, your father requested we … rock things up a little.”

Adrien gulped.

This couldn’t be good.

Right on cue, Pierre clicked his tongue disapprovingly, and said harshly, “Okay, I want this young lady with her back to the wall, with a knee propped up, and you standing between her legs, leaning on your arm, your hand beside her head on the brick. I want love in your eyes, I want passion.”

They both exchanged a panicked glance. This involved much more physical contact than they were used to.

_But not with Chat Noir. Just imagine he’s your silly kitty._

Smirking, Marinette gently nudged Adrien. “Hey, let’s just spark a _chain reaction_ here _,_ alright Adrien?”

He blinked at her slowly, before smiling broadly. Did … did she really make a _pun_?

Just like back at the museum, the pun caused the awkwardness between them to dissipate, and they tried to obey Pierre’s instructions as well as they could.

Adrien took the demanded pose seamlessly, falling into an easy routine he had gone through countless times over the years. Marinette, on the other hand, had tensed like a guitar string in front of him, the line of her jaw set in stone.

“Hey, relax,” he gently said between shots, lifting his chin as per Pierre’s instructions.

She willed a tentative smile on her face, trying to figure out what the heck was a sultry look. “I’m… I’m really trying but they-”

 

 

His fingers found hers around the handcuffs, and he whispered, “Forget about them, just look at me. We’re in this together, okay?”

She nodded, putting her entire trust in her friend. As Adrien gently guided her through the different shots, helping her with Pierre’s confusing directives and giving her tips and tricks, there was a subtle but definitely there shift in the atmosphere surrounding the pair.

To the onlookers, their bodies seemed to revolve around each other like a well-rehearsed performance, posing in front of the camera like they have been born to be partners.

After the first set, Pierre instructed Adrien to lift Marinette by the hips, holding her against the wall and resting his forehead against hers. She giggled slightly when he grabbed her, their eyes trained on each other.

 

 

“You okay?” he whispered breathlessly, holding the pose for a really pleased Pierre.

She smiled. “Yes, you?”

He nodded, and they moved onto the next pose, sitting next to each other, her legs propped up and her back leaning on his side. Between shots, he whispered softly for her ears only, “This is the most fun I’ve had at a shoot. Ever.”

The day went by without a hitch, Pierre practically buzzing with excitement behind the camera. The last picture, one of Adrien and Marinette facing each other and holding hands, earned them coos and awws from the crew.

But they were oblivious to their surroundings, staring into each other’s eyes. Being there, together, it felt _right._ Adrien leaned in, completely under her spell, and-

 

 

“Adrien! Little sneaky boy! If I had known you only needed your girlfriend to be at ease during couple shoots, we would have brought her in way sooner!”

“She isn’t—” Adrien began at the same time Marinette all but blurted out, the magic gone. “I’m not—”

“This is to say,” the young man resumed, gulping painfully and ignoring the little voice at the back of his mind telling him how unpleasant the truth was, “She’s a friend.”

Pierre shrugged, already busying himself into putting his camera away. “If you say so, boy. That kind of chemistry doesn’t lie, though. She truly brings the best out of you.”

As Pierre put his equipment away, he was blissfully oblivious to the matching fiery blushes on the teens’ faces, who both had suddenly a new found urge to change back into their civilian clothes.

Reaching with his free hand to scratch his neck, Adrien stammered, “S-s-so it’s g-getting late, wanna head at my p-place for dinner?”

Marinette was blissfully saved from having to answer, which she wasn’t quite sure she could have managed without making an utter fool of herself, by the Gorilla’s arrival. Adrien held the door open for her, and when she slid on the backseat, careful of avoiding tugging on their joined hands, he hoped she didn’t hear the loud thumping of his heart in his ribcage.

Unbeknownst to him, she was wishing the exact same thing with all her might.


	4. Agreste Mansion

The car trip toward the Agreste manor was silent at most. Adrien and Marinette sat next to each other on the backseat, keeping as much distance as was humanly possible despite the handcuffs.  Remnants of their respective blushes adorned both of their faces, and every single time their eyes met, a brand new layer of red to their cheeks.

The Gorilla put an end to their misery soon enough, pulling up in front of the mansion. Marinette let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding as she slid from the seat, following Adrien out of the car, hopeful she’d manage to calm her upset heart down.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the way his hands had felt familiarly amazing on her hips as he held her against the wall, and the pleasant tingle of his breath on her neck. When he had gently took her fingers into his, whispering gentle encouraging words to her despite their audience, she had felt her heart clench in a familiar, yet wonderful way. For a moment there, she had felt as if she and Adrien had belonged together, as if they were if they were in their own private bubble, and the feeling had been truly amazing.

She looked at him, one of her very best friends, climbing the steps of the mansion besides her, doing his best to walk at a pace comfortable for her. He was watching her too she could see now, from the corner of his eyes, and when blue met green a kind smile crept on his lips. “Ready to enter the dragon’s den?”

Marinette chuckled, her fingers lacing through his out of their own accord. “Can’t be that bad, right? I mean, it’s not like you tied yourself to me on purpose.”

“If I had known it would get you to be comfortable with me at long last,” Adrien answered cheekily, “I might have.”

It took her a solid ten seconds or so to regain her bearings, taken aback by his smug smile as he held the door open for her. She followed him inside his house, still reeling from his last comment, and was about to finally try what she hoped was a witty comeback when a stern and cold voice startled her.

“Adrien.”

The young man beside her stiffened beside her, his hand clenching almost painfully around hers. “Hello Father. Do you remember Marinette? She won a few of your contests.”

“Ah, yes. Mlle Dupain-Cheng. I must say it’s a relief that out of all the teenage girls you could have ended up stuck with, fate chose this one. At least she has a good head on her shoulders, Adrien, and won’t be a bad influence on you, unlike your usual acquaintances.”

Marinette felt anger pool in her gut, her fists clenching beside her. Adrien winced under the unexpected pressure on his fingers, but was too focused on keeping his own temper in check. Nothing good would come out of telling his father off, he had learned that the hard way growing up. Only once after his mother's death did standing up for himself had been successful, and it had mostly been all due to Nathalie stepping up and reorganizing his schedule so he could attend public school without compromising Gabriel’s precious plans.

Before either of them could speak, Gabriel came down the stairs in slow, measured steps that sent shots of dread through both teenagers. Each step resonated loudly in the mostly empty hall of the mansion, accentuating the feeling of doom hanging above their heads. The fashion mogul closed the distance between him and the two frightened teens, his arms linked in his back and his usual stern expression carefully schooled on his face. “The change of thematic for that photoshoot was an unfortunate bother, but I see it turned out for the best. Those outfits are decent.”

Marinette huffed, stopping herself a few seconds short from blurting out in front of Gabriel Agreste himself just exactly how much she was affected by the sight of his only son clad in black leather and combat boots. If Adrien sensed the obvious shift into his friend’s mood, he didn’t comment on the matter, instead choosing to ignore his father’s tepid appreciation.

“We were planning on playing videogames in my room until dinner time, Father,” he said in a subdued, timid tone that had nothing to do in a seventeen-year-old mouth and made Marinette sick to her stomach. “Will that be alright?”

“Of course,” Gabriel answered without the faintest hint of warmth or fatherly love. “First I’d like to get a closer look on your … predicament. How are you both faring so far?”

The unexpected question took Adrien by surprise, and he just stood there wordlessly, staring blankly at his father as the older man took both of their hands with long cold fingers. He closely inspected the tender skin of their arms, the barest trace of a smile tugging at his lips. “Good, the metal didn’t leave any marks. That would’ve been a real pain to Photoshop out of the pictures.”

There it was, the whiplash Adrien had been expecting the second his father had shown any concern for his well-being. Apparently, Gabriel wasn’t done with his emotional rollercoaster seeing as he pulled out two strips of velvety fabric sewn into a tube, approximately the size of a wrist. “Here, Adrien. We can’t let you get a chaffed wrist from that unfortunate situation, so I had a protective cuff made for you. You are expected to wear it underneath the handcuffs at all times from now on and up until they get lock picked, to ensure you won’t end up with ugly friction marks on your wrist for your incoming photoshoots.”

Adrien held out his free hand, taking the fabric cuffs from his father. Puzzled, he contemplated the two tubes of velvet resting in his open palm. “Father, why are there two cuffs?”

“Once cut, the fabric itself was useless. Rather than waste it, I thought your friend would, at least, appreciate the opportunity to remain blemish free as well. Or should I not have bothered being considerate?”

Marinette tried her best to ignore her friend's sharp intake of breath, picking one of the cuffs and sliding it on his bound wrist. Her fingers tingled pleasantly as they brushed the creamy skin of his inner arm, gently tugging the fabric underneath the cold metal of the handcuffs. He returned the gesture with shaky fingers, and she hated every ounce of hurt she could read behind the kind green eyes. She gulped, trying to keep her mouth from saying the words her heart really wanted to say to the man she had idolized for so long but was losing more and more shine the more she got to know his son. Instead, she bit back on her anger and said quietly, “It’s really thoughtful of you, M. Agreste, thank you.”

Before his father could answer, Adrien said quickly, “Thank you Father, now would you excuse us? I’m really looking forward to changing back into my regular clothes.”

“Very well,” Gabriel answered shortly before turning his back on them, ascending the stairs in the same slow, measured step that had spooked them earlier.

Marinette followed Adrien to his room wordlessly, fury and an unshakable sense of wrongness boiling under her skin. As soon as his bedroom door closed behind them, he took in her tensed shoulders, her lips stretched into a thin line. He grabbed her impaired hand again, the habit already having sunk in deep into their relationship, and gently brushed her free arm with the back of his other hand. “Hey, you alright?”

“Is … is that a normal thing? Is he always like that?” she asked with a broken voice.

“Like what?”

“You know, so formal and indifferent?” The words rolled unpleasantly from her tongue, what they implied upsetting her to no end.

Adrien shrugged, leading her gently to her duffel bag so she could pull out her civilian clothes and the shirts she had altered for him. “Don’t worry about it. You get used to it after a while.”

Marinette gaped at him, the same feeling of inner wrongness tugging uncomfortably at her heartstrings. “What a horrible thing to get used to. This… This isn’t okay, Adrien, I—”

“Don’t mind it, okay? It’s alright, really.”

Marinette sighed, absentmindedly rubbing her arm as Adrien turned his back on her as much as the handcuffs allowed him to, scavenging through his closet to pull out a clean pair of sweatpants. “You’re right,” she said, “it’s not my place to judge. I’m sorry.”

He smiled at her, clean clothes of his own in hands, and handed her a scarf that was all too familiar to her. Two years later, she still didn’t have a clue about how the mix-up on his birthday could’ve happened, but it was yet another testimony of how little the man cared for his only offspring. “Oh, you still have that scarf?” she blurted out despite herself.

“Well, yes, why?” Adrien seemed a little puzzled by her question. “It’s my favorite.”

Her throat tight, she took the offending scarf from his hands without a word and tied it around her head to cover her eyes. Her arm followed his as he quickly stripped out of his photoshoot clothes and into his jogging pants.

The rustle of fabric came to a stop, and Adrien’s hands came to untie the scarf. His fingers gently tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, and he smiled at her softly. “You worry too much, Marinette. I’ll be fine. Your turn to change.”

She only managed to nod, the image of Adrien Agreste clad in black jogging pants and a form-fitting dark gray t-shirt burned into her mind. As soon as his sight was completely blocked, she changed back into her sundress, unaware of her friend’s inner turmoil.

On his part, Adrien was putting those precious seconds of calm to try and organize his thoughts. Spending so much time in close quarters with Marinette, having her finally getting at ease with him and showing him her true self was unnerving, to say the least. He never would have expected to see anything other than a friend in Marinette, but the more time he spent with her, the more he had to admit he _liked_ the brand new Marinette he was now allowed to see, and his heart seemed to have gotten the habit of skipping a beat or two whenever they brushed against each other, which, given their situation, was quite often.

Somehow, he felt like he should feel guilty. He had sworn to love and cherish his lady, his partner, two years ago, but he hadn’t made any progress on that front. He still loved her dearly and would still protect her from harm at all costs, but if he was entirely honest with himself, it was undeniable that Marinette had inched her way into his heart and settled herself there quite comfortably over the course of this experience.

And that he was already too far gone to back out.

Her voice pulled him out of his musings. “I’m good, you can look.”

Hoping that she wouldn’t notice the blush he could feel spreading on his cheeks, Adrien chuckled awkwardly. Had she always been that adorable in a dress? She was looking at him from underneath long, dark lashes, her bottom lip caught in her teeth, and he felt weak to his knees. “I, um, what game did you want to play?”

“Anything’s fine,” she answered, “Actually, would you happen to have anything to snack on? I’m a bit hungry.”

He wandered as far as he could from her to turn on his gaming system, “There should be fruits and **_cheese_ ** in the mini-fridge. Help yourself—oh. You can’t. Wait a second.”

He powered on the console and the television, and they both moved toward said mini-fridge, Marinette wondering if Tikki would agree to eat anything other than pastries for a day. A quick glance into her purse while Adrien was rummaging into the appliance reassured her, as the little kwami mouthed discreetly “I’ll be fine, don’t worry” to her charge.

Minutes later, all worries of how she would manage to feed her little friend inconspicuously were long forgotten as she lost herself into a death match of Mario Kart against Adrien. They played for about an hour, competing feverishly against each other up until Nathalie loudly cleared her throat behind them, an amused smile dancing on her lips.

“Dinner is served, Adrien,” she told them sternly, her tone not matching her expression.

Marinette stiffened noticeably beside him, and he instantly picked up on it and the reasons behind it. “Don’t worry, Mari. He never eats with me, it’ll be just us.”

She nodded, lacing her fingers through his and let him lead her through the mansion’s corridors to the dining room. He pushed the heavy wooden door with an encouraging smile…

… and froze on the threshold.

“Evening, Adrien. Mlle Dupain-Cheng,” greeted the cold and impersonal voice of Gabriel Agreste.

Then followed the most awkward dinner Marinette had ever had.

She and Adrien were sitting side by side at the far end of the table, both of them eating in an awkward silence. Gabriel was at the other end of the long dining table, absorbed in something he was reading on his tablet.

 

After a while, his stern, austere voice rose, his eyes still trained on the digital screen, “I believe you understand, Adrien, that given the poor use you’ve made of the free time I allowed you, I’m going to have to cut back on your leisure time.”

Adrien’s fork paused midway from his plate to his mouth, and he stammered meekly, “I-I’m sorry?”

“Evidently, you need something constructive to keep you out of trouble on weekends. So I’ve asked Nathalie to schedule you an additional photoshoot per week, as well as violin classes.”

Not once as he spoke did Gabriel bother to lift his gaze toward his only son.

If he had, he might have noticed the way Marinette’s fingers had clenched around her fork, knuckles turning white, and the way her shoulders had tensed, alarming her friend.

“We were in a **_museum,_ ** ” she snarled through clenched teeth.

That effectively startled the man out of whatever it was he was reading, and he landed a questioning glance on the young woman. “Pardon me?”

“I’d understand if Adrien was getting punished for, say, vandalism, stealing, or anything stupid, sir,” she said, trying desperately to even out her voice, “but we were in a **_museum_ **. Adrien did nothing wrong to warrant such an unfair punishment.”

There was a moment of silence, in which Adrien couldn’t do anything but stare at his friend, dumbfounded. There was something in the way she sustained his father’s gaze, in the way she kept her shoulders straight and her chin proudly high, refusing to back down, that struck him with an uncanny familiarity.

Finally regaining his bearings after such an affront, Gabriel deposited his fork on his plate and linked his fingers together in front of him on the table, staring at the young woman. “I believe I’m perfectly capable of judging what’s fair or not when it comes to disciplining my son, Mlle Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette sprung on her feet so fast that Adrien didn’t have time to react. She slammed both of her hands on the table, hard, and the unexpected motion coupled with all the frustration she was trying to convey made what followed next inevitable. Both of her hands landed on the edge of her plate, while Adrien’s handcuffed hand landed on his, flipping both meals over and effectively covering Adrien and her with the remnants of their dinner.

Pieces of food in her hair, trembling from head to toe, Marinette stared Gabriel Agreste down with so much fire in her eyes that Adrien could swear he saw his father _wince_ in his seat.

“With all due respect, _sir_ ,” she seethed, “Adrien is the most hard-working person I know. Not only does he have his modeling job to do on top of school, he also has an insane amount of extracurricular activities **_and still_ ** somehow manages to **_excel_ ** in everything he does. He is top of our class, and despite being busier than a bee, he always makes time to help his classmates out.”

_“And save Paris three or four times a week,”_ Adrien thought to himself before gently tugging on Marinette’s dress, trying to calm her down, to no avail.

“You should be proud of your son,” she went on, ignoring the sharp intake of breath on her right, “instead of punishing him for something he had absolutely no control over. This,” she added, holding both of their bound hands high, “is the result of the honest mistake of a seven-year-old child. A little girl Adrien offered to help keep an eye on out of sheer kindness. And if you aren’t proud of him, it doesn’t matter. Because I know I am. All of his friends are.”

There was another pause, in which you could have heard a pin drop. Marinette seemed to realize what she had just done, sinking down into her seat and stubbornly refusing to meet Adrien’s eyes. Gabriel was staring blankly at both of them, an unreadable expression schooled on his face.

After a while, he spoke slowly, “I am well aware of the innate qualities of my son, but it seems I may have been... misinformed about the circumstances regarding the handcuffs and how they ended up on your wrists. I was led to believe they were the result of the two of you being silly and careless. I guess as long as _this_ doesn’t become a regular occurrence, we can overlook this once. If you’ll excuse me, I have business matters to attend to. I’ll expect a complete explanation from you tomorrow, Adrien. Good evening.”

Gabriel left the room without another word, leaving a stunned Adrien and a shaking Marinette behind him. Gently, the young man helped her out of her seat and led her back to his bedroom, growing more and more worried with every single minute of heavy silence that passed.

As soon as Adrien’s bedroom door closed behind them, he felt an odd and unfamiliar tug on the handcuffs. Startled, he cast a worried glance at his friend, whose knees had seemingly given up under her. She was slumped against the panel of the door, her head bowed down. Worry piling up in his gut, he kneeled down in front of her and gently grabbed her shoulders. “Hey, are you okay?”

She raised a wet gaze toward him, her bluebell eyes swimming in tears. “I’m so sorry, Adrien,” she hiccupped through her sobs, her shoulders shaking violently. “Your dad is going to hate me now, I made a total fool of myself and embarrassed you and—”

Adrien gaped at her for a second, taken aback by the hot tears running down her cheeks. Did she really treasure their friendship that much, that the very idea of upsetting him was undoing her like that? “Hey. Hey, calm down,” he cooed softly, gently cupping her face with his hands.

The fingers of her right hand wrapped around his wrist, and she leaned into his touch, a small whimper escaping her lips. “I’d understand if you’d hate me, Adrien. I’ve just ruined things between you and your father.”

He rested his forehead against her, whispering gently, “How could I ever hate you, Marinette? This was honestly the greatest thing someone ever done for me.”

She jerked back hearing those words, staring at him dumbfounded. “What?”

“Standing up to my father like that?” he said, awe dripping of every word. “Saying all those amazing things about me? That was a little insane I’ll admit, but very, very brave of you. Like, Ladybug level kind of brave.”

Marinette wiped her cheeks with the back of her free hand, looking at him through her tears. “You really think so?”

The sincerity of her pain in addition to how vulnerable she looked right then was his undoing. He pulled her into a bone crushing hug, wrapping his free arm snugly around her waist and burying his nose into her hair. “I really do. Thanks a lot, Mari.”

She relaxed into his embrace, sniffing softly as she laid her head on his shoulder. Her cheek landed in a spot of sauce smeared on his shirt, and she giggled loudly. “We’re disgusting.”

“Not my doing,” Adrien chuckled softly into their hug. “It’s not my fault you decided to Hulk smash our dinners.”

That sent them both into a fit of frantic laughter that defused the tension of the evening, dissolving the knots in their stomachs. They laughed together for a while, comparing their respective states of filthiness, and they only stopped when they heard a sharp knock on his bedroom door.

Standing up on shaky legs, Adrien wiped tears of mirth and opened the door to reveal Nathalie, standing on the threshold holding a small package. “Evening, Adrien. Your father thought you and Mlle Dupain-Cheng might want to take a shower, given the leftover products of the photoshoot as well as the little incident that happened over dinner. He’s sending that bathing suit for your friend, to ensure that things between you two will remain … appropriate. Leave your dirty clothes outside your door, the staff will take care of them.”

Adrien could feel his cheeks burn under a fiery blush as he took the small package from Nathalie’s hands, thanking her quickly. He turned toward Marinette, holding the bathing suit up, “She has a point. Our hair is stiff with hairspray and we both have about an inch of makeup on our faces. And that’s not including the sauce and vegetables all over us. A shower would be nice. What do you say?”

Marinette blushed deeply, and Adrien could only imagine it matched his. “Yeah, right,” she said meekly, taking the blue bundle of fabric from him. By then, changing clothes despite being tied to each other had become an easy routine between the pair, and it was a problem quickly solved. Before long, she was removing the scarf from his eyes, standing bashfully in front of him in the bathing suit Gabriel had provided her.

It was a simple strapless one piece, in a shade almost identical to her eyes. The fabric was ruched on her stomach, adding a nice texture to it. She was blushing hard and an awkward silence passed, in which Adrien just stared at her, mouth dry. In the end, Marinette squirmed uncomfortably in front of him. “Is … is this okay?”

He gulped, trying to chase any inappropriate thoughts about the impressive amount of skin that was bared for his eyes only. Throat tight, he sighed dreamily, “You look amazing, Marinette.”

As focused as she was herself to forego any impure fantasies about the toned body of Adrien Agreste displayed in front of her in nothing but swim shorts, Marinette nodded shortly before whispering hoarsely, “Shall we then?”

Their dirty clothes and their wrist cozies were put in the corridor quickly for the house staff to clean and return to them as soon as possible, and they headed to his gigantic bathroom hand in hand, both of their hearts beating furiously in their chests. As he pushed the bathroom door, Adrien sighed, “Hey, this doesn’t have to be weird, now, does it? It’s no different than going to the beach, right?”

Marinette giggled, the crimson blush on her cheeks still fierce as she removed the hair tie securing her bun. “I suppose you’re right. Say, do you think it’s really wise to get these wet?” she added, holding their bound hands up.

His eyes widened in realization, but the gears in his mind almost instantly clicked in place. “Probably not, you’ve got a good point. We could get into trouble with the museum if we get them to rust. I’ve got an idea though, come here.”

She watched, amazed at the ingenuity, as Adrien took out a red and black polka-dotted shower cap from a drawer and wrapped their hands in it, careful to cover all of the handcuffs. When he was satisfied with his handiwork, he secured it in place with a hair tie and smiled at her widely. “Voila! All safe!”

Minutes later, the warm water of the multiple jets of his big-enough-for-ten shower was coming down on the odd pair, washing away the grime of the day. Streaks of hair products, makeup and food swirled into the shower drain as they both eagerly lathered the rich foamy soap onto their skin with their free hand.

Marinette savored the sensation of cleanliness coming over her for a bit, before her gaze fell onto the bottle of shampoo sitting on a shelf. Sure, in any other circumstances she would’ve simply skipped washing her hair. But as things were, it was nearly crusty from all the hairspray and she was pretty sure bits of their dinner had flown right into the black locks.

“Um… Adrien, I … I hope this isn’t awkward or anything but… I can’t wash my hair with only one hand, and I kinda got sauce in it.”

“Allow me?” he said gently, putting the bottle of shampoo in her free hand so she could pour a bit of shampoo in his right hand.

She looked at him, searching his kind eyes for a sign, any trace of discomfort in them. But she didn’t find any, instead only reading his true desire to help her, to make their way through that bump in their road as a team. “Please,” she answered, turning around.

With soft and caring gestures, Adrien used his available hand to lather the shampoo in her hair, and then helped her thoroughly rinsing it before massaging conditioner in the length of her hair. “You sure know what you’re doing,” Marinette mused out loud.

“Well, you don’t grow up around hairdressers and makeup artists without picking up a few tricks. There, you’re all done.”

She ran her fingers through her hair under the water, just to make sure all the foam was gone, before looking at him. “Want me to lend you a hand also?”

“That would be stellar,” he said happily, grabbing his luxury shampoo bottle to pour some into her hand.

She mimicked his earlier motions, gently massaging his head as she scrubbed the product into the soft blond hair. Her nails softly grazed the tender skin of his scalp, and she realized Adrien had closed his eyes under her ministrations, seemingly enjoying her undivided attention.

A low rumble suddenly came from his chest, unbidden, and Marinette stilled.

“Adrien, are—are you … _purring_?”

His eyes shot open, and he flushed several shades darker. “...No?” he uttered weakly, avoiding her gaze.

“What’s that … odd sound then? It sounds like... vibrating,” Marinette giggled, her fingers resuming their work into his hair. He sighed happily, his eyes snapping back shut.

“I … I don’t know. Might be something wrong with the water.”

“...Okay.” Marinette chose to let it slide, pinning it as odd and shoving it to the back of her mind. After all, the only other plausible explanation was way too much convenient for her to even consider it.

Because there was no way that she was lucky enough to have her very best friend, whom she trusted completely, and the man she had been in love with for the past two years being the same amazing person. Two wonderful human beings she loved dearly and wholeheartedly wrapped into one dreamy package?

Not even Ladybug was that lucky. The handcuffs were a testimony of that.

Once they both were thoroughly cleaned from head to toe, they stepped out of the shower in silence, wrapping themselves into thick, warm towels. They quickly changed into their sleepwear, Marinette donning a pair of light gray yoga pants and a ruby-red halter top with open sides.

Their hair and teeth brushed, they wandered back into his room, sitting side by side onto his bed. The house staff had brought back their wrists cozies while they were in the shower, clean and dry, so Adrien carefully slipped them back on both of their wrists before taking her hands into his gently. “Are you feeling better, Marinette?”

“A little,” she breathed softly. “I still feel horrible about yelling to your father. It was so out of line.”

Mindful of the handcuffs still tying them to each other, Adrien slowly leaned down on his bed, motioning for her to curl up within his arms. She happily complied, snuggling against his chest. Marinette had always been the affectionate type with her close friends as the frequent hugs with Alya attested, but the coldness of the building he called home had made her understand that her lonely friend craved human warmth just as much as she did.

Plus, it was Adrien. So she wouldn’t refuse an open invitation into his arms, now, would she?

The young man pressed a few buttons on his phone and his television powered up, playing one of his favorite anime, _Sword Art Online_. He didn’t pay attention to it, his mind focused on the deepening breaths of the girl in his arms. Setting the device aside, he buried the fingers of his free hand into her hair, gently stroking it until they both fell asleep, listening to her heartbeat against his chest.


	5. ANNOUNCEMENT

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Important Announcement

Dear Miraculous Readers,

 

It is with heavy hearts that we come to you with some tragic news about one of our own fandom members, the wonderful, kind, talented Maerynn.

Sadly, last week, we received word that Maerynn was involved in a car accident and tragically passed away.

Mae enriched the Miraculous fandom as an amazing writer. Her works included “A Beautiful Mistake”, “Both of You”, “Bring Me Home”, as well as various collabs such as “Under Lock and Key” with Eden Daphne, “The Other You” with Totally Lucky, and “Broken” with BBWoulfC 

Our hearts go out to her family during this terrible time. We ask you all to please be respectful. Questions pertaining to her unfinished stories and collaborations will be answered in due course, but now is not the time to be thinking of such things.

Instead, we ask you to remember her, join us in our grief and sorrow, but also celebrate the irreplaceable contributions she made to the fandom, and think fondly of the space she made in our hearts. For many of us, Mae wasn’t just a talented writer, she was also a true friend, someone who cried with us during bad times and laughed with us during good ones. She was always there, and the fandom doesn’t feel the same without her.

Below, feel free to offer your condolences or your favourite memories of Mae, or even quote your favourite part of her stories. We will do our best to pass on well wishes and love to her family.

We know many of you will be confused and devastated by this news, as we are. Out of respect, we will not be giving out any more information on her private life. 

She will be forever loved and missed.

 

With love,

 

Eden (EdenDaphne)

Midnight (midnightstarlightwrites)

Lucky (Totally_Lucky on Ao3, @chocoluckchipz at Tumblr)

Ray (BBWoulfC)

Kry (KryallaOrchid)

Liz (Eizabet)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many of you might be wondering what will happen to "Under Lock and Key" with Maerynn gone. I do plan on finishing it because I believe it's what Mae would have wanted. She had already finished writing most of the remaining chapters, and I want all our readers to be able to read and enjoy all her hard work. And so I will continue to work on updating this story with the help of some of our close friends. 
> 
> However, I ask you to please be conscientious of the grieving we're going through and understand that it may take a while to get the next chapter up. Having her leave us so suddenly has been very difficult. She was very dear to us.
> 
> This is not an official hiatus, just... more of a pause. A moment of silence, if you will. Thank you for understanding.


	6. School Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your kind words and condolences. Maerynn's friends and loved ones, we all appreciate the tremendous amount of love that was shown through your messages and comments. Mae was an exceptional individual, and her absence has been deeply felt by those of us who talked to her regularly or read her stories. 
> 
> With that said, I truly hope you enjoy the rest of the chapters. She did a phenomenal job writing them and put her heart and soul into the story. It was truly a blessing to be able to collaborate with her these past few months. Editing and tweaking this chapter reminded me of all the story events and dialogue we planned together and it was bittersweet to be able to reminisce. Thank you all for your support and for not pressuring me for updates.

The next morning was much more pleasant to both of them than the first, and much less dramatic. Adrien was pulled out of his dreams by the warm body in his arms stirring lazily, the weight of her head pressed into the crook of his neck. He cracked one eye open, glancing down to the sleeping figure beside him. Marinette was laying with her torso half-draped over his chest, her free hand gently splayed over his shoulder. Her breath was tickling the side of his neck and he repressed a giggle, softly nudging her awake, “Wakey, wakey, Sleeping Beauty! We have school today!”

“Just give me ten more minutes, Chat, please,”

Adrien’s hand stilled on her shoulder, and the sudden lack of motion seemed to be enough to jerk her out of her precious slumber. She jolted backwards, almost falling off the bed in the process, and stared at him with wide eyes.

Throat dry, Adrien stared back, stammering weakly, “D-did you just call me Chat?”

She let out a loud groan, hiding her face in her pillow. “I’m so sorry… You can’t tell anyone, okay?”

When Adrien nodded, very well aware of the secret his friend was about to confide in him but curious about the way she was going to word it, Marinette sighed softly, “The thing is, from time to time, Chat Noir drops by my house. He’s stopped by a few times while I happened to be asleep in my chair, must be where the confusion stems from… I’m really sorry.”

“Are you two close?” he asked, conscious that he was grasping at straws by that point. Why her opinion on his leather-clad alter-ego mattered that much to him, he couldn’t say, but he couldn’t stand the idea of her disliking Chat Noir.

Thankfully, she cut his misery short, answering with a fond smile, “I guess you could say that. He’s kind of a goofball sometimes, but he’s the bravest and kindest soul I’ve ever met. Don’t ever tell him I said that, but he’s amazing.”

Adrien couldn’t have kept the goofy grin off his face if he tried. So he instead attempted to morph it into a teasing smile, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “Seems like someone’s quite fond of a certain cat.”

She blushed, a lovely shade of red that made his heart race a little faster in his chest. “Who isn’t? I mean, sure, he can’t cleanse the akumas by himself, but anyone with a functional brain knows how great a team he and Ladybug are, and how lucky we have to have them watching over us. She would be lost without him.”

Adrien was sure his face matched his partner’s suit perfectly right that second. A pleasant warmth spread inside him, and he did the only thing he could think of to derail his thoughts from a really dangerous path: he clambered towards the edge of the bed, half dragging poor Marinette in his haste, and mumbled, “We better get up now if we actually want to eat anything before school starts.”

A few moments later, they had successfully pulled themselves into a standing position, not without some struggle on Marinette’s part.

Marinette threw on a pair of skinny light-washed jeans and a chic halter top before giving Adrien the green light to remove the scarf around his eyes. As he did so, his fingers brushed against the familiar stitching on the end of it, for the very first time paying close attention to the threads. Marinette’s odd reaction the day prior upon realizing he still had it was still lingering at the back of his mind, and he softly swiped the pad of his thumb across the light blue thread.

How he never noticed it before, he couldn’t say for the life of him, but there was something embroidered into one of the ends of the scarf. His breath hitched in his throat, and waited, unsteady and anxious, his thumb gently tracing the letters he could decipher into the stitching.

“All good, you can get dressed, Adrien. Could you hand me the scarf?” Marinette’s kind voice brought him back to reality.

He undid the knot, but instead of handing the scarf to his friend, his fingers lingered on it, his eyes examining the fabric closely. There it was, unmistakable, the word he thought he could feel under his skin a few seconds prior.

_Marinette_.

“Ma… Marinette…” Adrien breathed softly, unable to tear his gaze away from the birthday gift that had meant so much to him, from the single word that was currently morphing his insides into a wild roller coaster ride.

“Yes?” she asked, readjusting the wrist cozy on the handcuff, blissfully unaware of his inner turmoil.

He lifted cautious eyes toward her, knowing all too well that her answer to his next question could very well mean his undoing just as much as it could be the beginning of a deeper friendship between the two of them. “Marinette, why is your name embroidered in my favorite scarf?”

Their eyes met, and Marinette shifted uncomfortably in front of him. “I- Uh.... umm.....” Her eyes widened and she could feel her brain getting frazzled as she desperately tried to come up with a plausible explanation. When she came up empty-handed, she sighed and resignedly admitted, “B-because I made it?”

“You… you did? But… how? Did my father buy it from you?”

Marinette flushed bright red, nibbling at her lower lip softly, and intently avoided his gaze. All her body language was screaming just how much she wasn’t at ease with the conversation topic, and for a split-second, Adrien considered withdrawing his question. Before he could, however, she whispered, “No. No, he didn’t. I’m sorry, Adrien.” She gulped loudly, still averting her eyes from him. “I… I don’t have a clue about how it happened, but there was some kind of mix-up that day, and you ended up thinking the gift was from your father. I… You were so happy about it, and I…”

“Why didn’t you say anything about it, Marinette? I don’t understand,” he asked, unable to tear his eyes away from the blush spreading on her cheeks.

She smiled, a soft, gentle smile that made his heart clench in his chest and finally looked up at him. "I made that scarf to make you happy. And it did. The rest didn't matter." 

That was far more than Adrien could take with a straight face. He was used to people going out of their way to make him happy, but they always had something else in mind. There always sought money, fifteen minutes of fame, or favors from his father. 

But Marinette hadn’t wanted any of that. She had done a wonderful thing for his birthday, for _him_. 

Because she cared for him, and wanted him to be happy.

He felt tears pricking at his eyes, and a sudden jolt of apprehension at the idea that Marinette might witness him crying. At the same time, his heart swelled pleasantly, knowing what the amazing girl in front of him had done out of pure kindness.

Without thinking, he reached forward and pressed his lips on the milky skin of her forehead, wrapping his arms snugly around her back, hoping she hadn’t had time to notice the tears shining in his eyes. In the back of his mind, Adrien briefly wondered if he should have been shocked at how naturally, how normal it felt to be touching her at all times like that, how comfortable he felt with her around. 

The warmth of her skin under his lips, how good she felt within the embrace of his arms, maybe he should have thought it was strange, but it just felt _right_.  He smiled against her forehead, pushing those intrusive concerns away, and whispered, “I can’t thank you enough, Marinette. You’re amazing.”

She flushed, trying to keep her pounding heart in check. How fair was it that he had that kind of effect on her?

She finally came to and wrapped her available arm around his waist to return the hug.  “You’re welcome, Adrien.”  

Neither of them managed to utter anything serious after that, both of them instead focusing on getting Adrien dressed and eating their breakfast with comfortable chatter. Shortly after, they gathered their stuff for school and got ready to leave. With a small smile, Marinette slipped her free arm into her schoolbag’s strap.

Her smile quickly turned to a frown as the unmistakable sound of fabric ripping pierced the air. She froze, panic filling her eyes as she clutched her top to her chest, afraid of the consequences of what had just happened.

“Are you okay, Mari?” Adrien asked softly.

“I… I think I just ripped my shirt.” 

Her tone was urgent, almost desperate, and having been around a lot of fashion faux-pas in his young life, Adrien thankfully knew exactly what to do on such an occasion. “Turn around, I’ll take a look.”

Granted, the sharp hiss that escaped his lips upon assessing the damages probably wasn’t the best way of reassuring his friend on her current state of clothing.

“That bad?”

Adrien gulped, eyeing the ripped garment. “The stitches ripped open, you’ll have to change.”

“But I don’t have another shirt with me! Can I just tie it up or something?” 

“I’m afraid not. It’s ripped all the way down, it won’t stay upright if you let go.”

Marinette let out a pitiful groan, but before Adrien could react, she raised her head back up. “Okay. I can roll with that. Do you have a dress shirt I can borrow? With long sleeves?”

Confused, Adrien led her to his closet, where she selected a pitch black cotton shirt that could serve her purpose.

He watched her wordlessly as she sprung into action, her brows furrowed as she focused on the task at hand. Marinette undid a few of the buttons, then stepped into the shirt like you would a dress. Wriggling the garment up to her chest, so that the button hem acted as the top of her makeshift shirt, she tugged the broken halter top out from beneath it. What happened next was pure magic as far as Adrien was concerned. She tied and adjusted the sleeves with finesse. 

When she was done, Adrien gulped painfully, looking at the way the fabric of his shirt hugged her beautiful curves. The collar of the shirt was underlining her collarbone alluringly, and she had tied the sleeves in her back, making her waist pop.

Swallowing, Adrien sighed, ignoring the way her current state of dress was making him feel. “That’s amazing... How did you even think of this?”

With a cheeky wink, Marinette chuckled lightly, a sound Adrien found himself quite fond of. “A girl like me basically lives on Pinterest, Adrien. I have tricks up my sleeve to do stuff you can only dream about.”

They laughed and joked with each other as they gathered up their things to head back downstairs.  Her heart beating hard in her chest, Marinette followed Adrien through the mansion, letting him carry her bag if only for the sake of her makeshift outfit.

Before they could get into the waiting car, though, someone rattled their throat behind them, startling them both.

“Isn’t that one of my shirts?” Gabriel Agreste’s voice enquired, startling both teens out of their playful banter.

Adrien was the first one to regain his bearings, blushing slightly and uttered quietly, “It is. Marinette had a slight wardrobe malfunction, so I lent her a shirt of mine.”

Both teenagers were waiting for the storm to hit, shoulders tensed and heads hung low. What neither of them had been prepared for, though, was for Gabriel to stand appreciatively in front of the pair, eyeing her handiwork with a slight smile. “That was very resourceful, Mlle Dupain-Cheng. Well done.”

In the amount of time it took Marinette to wipe the shocked expression off of her face after Gabriel Agreste had left them on that parting comment, they had arrived at school. Adrien’s bodyguard hurried them out of the car, and they barely had time to greet their friends waiting for them on the school steps before Nino playfully pounced on Adrien, a cheerful “Bro!” echoing on the sidewalk.

What the young DJ hadn’t accounted for, though, was that the motion would pull Marinette along with them, sending the impromptu trio tumbling on the concrete. Startled, Alya only managed to gawk at them, trying (and failing) to understand what had just happened.

“Uh… Marinette? Were you in Adrien’s car just now?” she asked, incredulous. 

Her best friend groaned in pain, accepting the hand Adrien that offering her to get up. “There… there was a mishap at the museum on Saturday. Adrien and I are more or less…”

Her voice trailed off, obviously unsure of the best way of presenting their predicament. Adrien smiled, holding their bound hands high so their friends could see for themselves, “Let’s just say lovely little Manon played a trick on us.”

Before Nino or Alya could reply, a loud shrill resonated through the entire schoolyard, scaring a life or two out of the group. 

“MARINETTE DUPAIN-CHENG! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY ADRIKINS?”

Sure enough, Chloe Bourgeois was marching toward them, visibly fuming, a frowning Sabrina in tow. Marinette braced herself for the confrontation, the pure hatred oozing from the mayor’s daughter not being a really good omen for what was sure to follow.

The few people who weren’t already staring at them across the courtyard turned toward the commotion upon hearing the outraged gasp that left the heiress’ mouth at that moment.

“What is this, Marinette? What horrible mess have you dragged my poor Adrien into? Let him out of those things right now!”

With a resigned sigh, Marinette lifted their bound hands, the handcuffs shining almost tauntingly in the sunlight. “I couldn’t even if I wanted to, Chloe. There’s no key.”

Chloe huffed loudly.  “Is this some sort of con?” she barked, disdain and anger seeping through every word. “Did you handcuff yourself to him because you couldn’t figure out on your own how to get him to actually spend time around you?”  


Marinette felt Adrien stiffen next to her.

“Chloe, ouch,” interjected Nino.  “That isn’t fair.”  

Alya was seeing red and shrieked, “You take that back right now!”

Chloe continued as if she hadn’t heard either of them and rummaged through her purse to get her phone out, “This is ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous! Hang in there, Adri _chou_ , I’ll just call Daddy and he’ll get someone to free you from those tacky handcuffs.”

Marinette took a deep breath, trying to calm her jittering nerves before replying to her long-term bully. She didn’t want to turn this into a screaming match, and she knew that her words were only that, words.

Before she could react, though, Adrien scooted closer to her so they were shoulder-to-shoulder and grabbed her right hand, lacing his fingers through hers without any hesitation, (much to Chloe’s disbelief and confusion) and beamed at his childhood friend, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You got it all wrong, Chlo. I wanted to see what it would be like to have a girlfriend for a few days, so I handcuffed myself to Marinette. I’ve had a sheltered upbringing, I didn’t know it wasn’t socially acceptable!  But on the plus side, I’ve loved every minute of it!”

Chloe stammered a few unintelligible words while glaring at Adrien and at their joined hands back and forth for a long, agonizing minute before spinning on her heels and vanishing into the school with a displeased scowl, muttering indistinctly to herself as she walked off.

Marinette let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, and looked at Adrien with a grateful smile.

“Thanks so much for this, you saved me from a very painful confrontation.”

In the spur of the moment, she stood on her tiptoes, placing a soft peck on his cheek. Adrien froze and spluttered what he dearly hoped sounded at least a little bit like “You’re welcome”.Why in the world did Marinette touching him affectionately mess with his head like this? He shouldn’t be getting flustered by a simple kiss on the cheek, he was French for Heaven’s sake! Plus, he was already in love with Ladybug!  You can’t be in love with two people at the same time, right?

...Right?

They were brought back to reality by Nino playfully nudging Adrien, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Ok dude, admit it now, what’s the real reason you two are still in handcuffs? I know Marinette has a sparkling personality and all…” He smirked, and Adrien nearly cowered in fear of what was going through his friend’s head. “It’s so you can get a glimpse of her naked, right?"

"NINO!!" Adrien scolded, only to be stalled from anything else by Marinette's panicked trip over thin air. He made a grab for her, narrowly avoiding crashing once again on the floor.

Alya snickered, holding the door open for them, “He’s got a point, though, how do you change clothes?”

With an unamused stare, Marinette glowered, “Blindfold. And you’re dead to me.” Alya only snickered at her, and deliberately dropped her eyes to their still joined hands.

“Oh, I see! So you just... feel your way around and hope for the _breast_?” she added with a leer, wrapping her arm around her best friend’s shoulders.

Marinette let out a choked squawk while Adrien only groaned in defeat, somehow feeling this merciless teasing was only the tip of the iceberg.

How would they survive that day?

 

* * *

 

If years of teaching a class that was targeted by akumas on a semi-weekly basis had taught anything to Caline Bustier, it was to expect the unexpected. So when Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Adrien Agreste walked in handcuffed to each other that morning, wearing matching fiery blushes, she took it in stride without a second thought. After all, this wasn’t the most bizarre thing that had happened to her pupils, by far. "M. Lahiffe, you can switch seats with Mlle Dupain-Cheng until this situation is resolved. This is not a permission to ‘chat’ with Mlle Césaire, so no funny business or you are sitting at my desk for the day, understood?"

Marinette and Adrien slid onto the bench of Marinette’s desk, awkwardly trying to fish their things out of their respective bags. As if their cheeks weren’t red enough from feeling the weight of their classmates’ stares on their predicament, Kim’s powerful voice resonated through the classroom, “So dudes, how do you go to the bathroom?”

If Adrien thought he was blushing before, it was nothing compared to the shade of red that spread on his face at that moment.  Marinette, however, was more used to Kim’s tactless ribbing, and openly glared at him. “Some things are best kept a mystery, Kim,” she said sharply, effectively shutting the athlete up.

There were a few more questions, notably about where they had slept and how they had managed to end up like this, but they were thankfully freed from their classmates’ curiosity by Mlle Bustier beginning the lesson.

Which prompted them to realize they had yet another problem to solve.

Despite how limp Adrien tried to keep his left hand, it kept tugging oddly on Marinette’s right hand, making it nearly impossible for her to write somewhat legibly. After about half an hour of hearing her grunt in frustration and catching murderous glances at the handcuffs, Adrien couldn’t stifle a chuckle. Grabbing his tablet, he showed her his own neatly calligraphed notes, and swiftly wrote in the margin, _“ Don’t worry, I’ll send you mine.”_

Marinette pouted, but a single glance to the messy scribbles on her tablet achieved convincing her. She nodded, stubbornly looking at his bound hand as if it was the culprit of some odious crime. 

Adrien chuckled again, pulling out his stylus to write her, _“ What a cute pout.”_

She was about to reply when a sound they were both all too familiar with broke the silence of the classroom. A loud crash, followed by a loud, booming voice making the school’s windows vibrate, “I AM NOSTALGIAK!  FEAR THE GREATNESS OF THE PAST AND BID YOUR FAREWELLS TO YOUR DEAR TECHNOLOGY!”

Years of being repeatedly plagued by various villains meant that their class was more than well-trained when it came to akuma safety protocol. En masse, the entire class stood up and left the classroom, running toward their respective hideouts.

Without uttering a word to each other, they both ran out of the building as though they were of one mind, him clutching her smaller hand firmly into his, both of their hearts beating madly in their chests.

This was bad.

This was _really_ bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	7. Nostalgiak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wild akuma appears!! How will Ladybug and Chat Noir defeat this time-based villain when they can't even transform?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter to date, so it took me a really long time to edit/rewrite and make the illustrations. Maerynn had written most of it but it was a VERY rough draft and she hadn't been able to work on it much, so there were holes and inconsistencies that needed to be addressed, as well as dialogue changes. Thank you for your patience (and for not sending any "When are you going to update?" type questions)

 

 They ducked behind a wall, effectively getting out of sight of the akuma, but severely impairing any chance of escape. They were at a dead end, and should Nostalgiak decide to show her frightful face in that alley, they’d be goners. Marinette cursed under her breath, wondering how her partner’s infamous luck had managed to turn on her so badly. Unbeknownst to her, Adrien was actively cursing his kwami in every language he knew, wondering how he could protect Marinette from harm and rush to join his partner.

The same obsessing thought was on both of their minds: “ _I have no choice, I have to find a way to break these handcuffs and transform as quickly as possible. But how?”_

 _“Maybe I can go online and look up a hardware store so I can buy a saw, or some bolt cutters. I hope the shop is open. I wonder how fast we could get there on foot…?”_ Adrien wondered, worry quickly growing in his gut.

“ _If we climb up that fire escape, maybe we could get a vantage point and attract Chat’s attention so he can use his Cataclysm,”_ Marinette considered, unaware of the blatant flaw in her plan.

Marinette took a sharp breath and said, her eyes frantically scanning the street, “I don’t see Chat Noir anywhere, where could he be?!”

“I don’t see Ladybug anywhere either,” Adrien pouted despite himself. Beside him, he could have sworn Marinette kept stealing glances at the contents of her purse, her lips stretched into a thin, determined line.  They both knew the akuma was creeping closer and closer judging by the proximity of the ruckus.

 

After a minute that felt like an eternity (both of them searching the skies for their respective missing partner) Marinette lifted her eyes toward him, pure resolve written all over her face. “Adrien, I need you to listen closely. You can’t ever talk to anyone about what you’re about to see, okay? Promise me, please.”

“Mari, wait, there’s something I gotta tell y-”

His question was cut short by Marinette closing her eyes, visibly steeling herself for the worst. “I’m really sorry, Adrien, but there’s just no time. I trust you.” She gulped, her eyes stubbornly closed, and the young man could only watch helplessly as the words he least expected from her tumbled from her lips, “Tikki, spots on!”

 

 

 

 

Adrien froze, watching his classmate being engulfed into a bright pink light barely a foot away from him. It felt strangely intimate to witness firsthand Marinette's body being covered from neck to toes in that familiar magical red material, and yet, somehow, it felt oddly right. There she was, standing right next to him, the young woman he’d been in love with since their first day as superheroes all those years ago.

Now that he was seeing it with his very own eyes, it made perfect sense.  How could anybody else be that clever, brave, kind-hearted girl? Of course it had to be Marinette. It couldn’t possibly be anyone besides Marinette.  He’d fallen in love with her twice.

He was still staring at her, his slack jaw lying somewhere on the ground, when Marinette ( _LADYBUG!_ ) grabbed his hand and briskly spun him around like the lead partner in a dance, so his left arm wrapped him up tightly against Ladybug. Then, lining up their bound hands, she picked him up and darted away carrying him bridal style as she tried to get as much distance between them and the akuma as possible.

Taken aback, he could only struggle weakly and try to get her attention, which was difficult, since his civilian self was not used to how strongly the wind whipped around them as she ran with her enhanced speed.  “M-Marinette, wait!”

 

 

 

 

But Ladybug ( _MARINETTE!_ ) wasn’t listening to him. She was swinging them both over several buildings effortlessly, cradling Adrien’s body to her chest like he weighed next to nothing. She landed gracefully on the ground behind a wall and almost instantly grabbed her yoyo, flipping it open and pressing the familiar button frantically. She was shaking, the handcuffs trembling against his wrist. “Why won’t he pick up? Where is he? Is he okay?”

Adrien felt his heart clench painfully in his chest. It was obvious she was fearing her partner had been held up. “Mari, hold on, I-”

“Come on…” she mumbled absently, staring at the ‘ _Calling Chat Noir…’_ displayed on the screen of her weapon. “We need to wait for Chat. He can use his Cataclysm on these handcuffs, and we’ll get you to safety. You don’t need to worry, Adrien, everything’s gonna be fine. I’ll protect you at all costs, I swear it, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Mar-- Ladybug, I promise I’m going to explain everything, but right now what you need to do is follow me _,_ ” Adrien pleaded, tugging on the handcuffs in a desperate attempt to make her look at him. She had taken them near one of the numerous akuma shelters in the city, so after their handcuffs were broken he could join the other citizens rushing to safety.  Being in such a public area would make it nearly impossible for him to transform without witnesses.

She shook her head, redialing Chat’s number again on her yo-yo, stubbornly trying to reach her partner. “I know you must be scared, but just have faith in him, Adrien. Chat has never let me down, not even once. He’ll be here soon, I just have to keep you safe until he brings his whiskers over here. He’ll know where to find me.”

Adrien’s raw nerves couldn’t handle the expectations put upon his heroic self while he was stuck in plain sight. He couldn’t risk transforming in front of people who would eventually make the connection between Chat Noir and Ladybug being bound together by handcuffs, when numerous others had seen Adrien and Marinette stuck together the same way.

“Ladybug, please! We have to go, and then-”

“No, we can’t leave!  This is the safest place for you!  I can’t risk _anything_ happening to you, I just can’t!  I lo--” she stopped and quickly looked away, hesitated, then looked back at him and continued. “We need to wait for Chat Noir.”  The words tumbled from her lips sharply, resolutely, her piercing blue eyes betraying her confident tone. He could see fear; but not fear of having to fight alone, but fear of failing _him_ , fear of Adrien getting hurt.

Despite himself, because he needed his partner to stop tinkering with her weapon and hear him out, he whisper-shouted at her, “HE’S _NOT_ COMING!"

She turned an incredulous stare toward him, her movements frozen. “What? Of course he is. What are you talking about?”

“It’s… because he’s...” Adrien stammered weakly, taken aback by the sheer intensity of her gaze.

 

 

 

 

She faltered for a moment, “A-are you saying something happened to-- _NO_ .  We can’t think like that.  If he isn’t here yet, it’s because he’s been delayed by something, but he WILL come.  He always does. Chat is many things: he’s dorky, a bit impulsive, and makes ridiculous puns, but he’s not a quitter, he’s tenacious, and he would _never_ abandon me. If anything’s happened, he’ll pull through and show up regardless.  He’s the most reliable person I know, and one of my best friends. We’ve been through everything together and he’s never failed me. I trust him with my life.”

She held his gaze, firm, unyielding, and absolutely confident. “He’ll be here. I believe in him.”

Hearing those amazing praises toward his superheroic self coming from Ladybug’s lips, seeing just how much her faith and trust in him was unwavering, just how much she deeply cared about him, about both sides of him, Adrien’s logic completely disconnected. The rational part of his brain shut down, and several irresistible emotions washing over him took the lead of his entire being.

Both of his hands grabbed the sides of her face, and before she could even react, his lips crashed upon hers.

 

 

 

 

Adrien had spent the last few days falling head over heels for her civilian self, falling _hard_ , and the shock of realizing his long-term love and his smart, adorable classmate were one and the same was absolutely overwhelming.

She went stiff between his hands and made a small surprised sound, but, as he gathered her in his arms, Adrien quickly found out that kissing Marinette/Ladybug came with an entirely new set of problems.

One, her lips were soft, tasted faintly of strawberry lipgloss, and were _addictive_.

Two, she started kissing him back.

The way her soft, warm lips started to move in sync with his, gently caressing his skin. The small moan as her fingers sneaked their way into his hair, the way she chased him when he started to pull back.  Nothing existed outside of her warmth engulfing him, outside of the feeling of soaring higher than he ever had.

He kissed her again and again, pouring all the emotions he couldn’t put into words, somewhat feeling as if time had stopped to let them fully savour their first kiss…

Until another loud crash followed by an evil cackle startled them apart, and Adrien stared away from his partner for a second, trying to clear his head. “R-right. The akuma.”

The way her slightly parted lips looked a bit swollen from their kiss, and the way her eyes still looked a little hazy, eyelashes slowly fluttering, was distracting beyond anything he had ever experienced, but he managed to say somewhat intelligibly, “Mari, come with me.  Now. I’ll explain everything, I swear.”

She only nodded weakly, holding his hand and letting him lead her into a dark, secluded alley, away from any prying eyes. She was confused, he could tell by the way she was staring at him with one eyebrow slightly quirked, but said nothing.  He tried his best to calm his jittery nerves down and do what needed to be done.

Gulping painfully, Adrien whispered softly, “Please, Mari, don’t hate me. Plagg, claws out.”

 

 

 

 

A bright flash of green blinded her for a second, leaving a sheepish looking Chat Noir behind. She gasped and covered her mouth with her free hand, dumbfounded.  With a little contrite smile, he quickly used his Cataclysm on the handcuffs and, saying nothing else, he extended his baton, promptly soaring into the Parisian rooftops with all of his feline grace.

Shocked and unsure about how to deal with the maelstrom of emotions raging within her heart, Ladybug’s mind was still desperately trying to reel in the latest events and make sense out of them.  She knew Chat Noir’s ( _ADRIEN’S?!_ ) kwami would need to recharge, so she eventually managed to snap out of her shocked state and went in search of the akuma.

 

 

Chat ducked behind a chimney and quickly detransformed, handing a piece of Camembert to Plagg. The kwami was exhausted by the early but much-needed Cataclysm, and had to recharge if they wanted a chance at winning that fight. Adrien stared at his little friend blankly as he ate, deep in thought. Marinette’s sudden absence weighed down on him, making him feel uncomfortable. It felt odd, being alone after having his friend, his _Lady_ , literally attached to him for the last few days. The irony was almost painful. The moments he had spent tied to Marinette, unable to escape each other, had paradoxically made him feel freer than ever, finally able to be his true self around someone. Alternatively, his giant yet empty bedroom didn’t bring him anything more than the unshakeable feeling of being trapped in a gilded cage.

The last bite of Camembert disappeared into Plagg’s mouth, and Adrien forced himself to shake his uneasy feeling of being separated from Marinette. How quickly she had grown on him, how easily he had gotten accustomed to her constant presence by his side, astounded him.

But now was not the time to reflect on that. They had an akuma to defeat. And the quicker they sent that corrupted butterfly back to where it belonged, the quicker he’d be able to resume what he and Marinette had begun in that hidden alleyway.

 

 

By the time Chat had arrived at the scene and land on the street where Nostalgiak was holding her impromptu and quite disturbing vintage party, Ladybug was already engaged with their foe on her own. The number of cars that had already been turned into horse-drawn carriages around them was dizzying to say the least, and people unlucky enough to have crossed Nostalgiak’s path had all found their cellphones almost instantly turned into old-fashioned telegraph machines in their pockets, which said pockets hadn’t quite appreciated, fabric-ripping sounds resonating loudly all over the street.

The akuma itself gave off an eerie vibe, an early-middle aged woman standing tall at the center of the street holding an oversized clock by a golden chain. Her long hair was tied on the top of her head in a strict bun, adorned with a jewel that looked like it was made out of gears and metal scraps. A tight brown leather corset circled her slim waist over a white button up, and her mermaid-like skirt was brushing the ground with every step she took. A wide leather belt complemented her somewhat steampunk-inspired outfit, a golden gear making lieu of a belt buckle.

“What are you waiting for?” she mocked, marching towards the polka dotted hero. “I’m going to retrieve both yours and Chat Noir’s Miraculouses, and then I’ll be able to return Paris to its former glory!”

Ladybug sighed.  Just another day in the seventeen-year-old superhero’s life.

She dodged a barrage of amber colored beams, yelping as she avoided one of them at the last possible moment. She had engaged Nostalgiak without waiting for her partner, hoping that it would give him enough time for his kwami to recharge while she kept her busy. But now that she was facing their foe alone, with nowhere to hide and much less leverage on her, she was beginning to second guess her decision.

“What’s the matter, Old-Timer?” she feigned confidence with a dry laugh as she leaped over yet another horse carriage that suddenly appeared before her in lieu of a blue Mercedes-Benz. “Did you have trouble setting up the DVR or what?”

“Insolent insect!” She took a menacing step toward Ladybug, morphing the asphalt beneath her feet into a stone path as she moved forward. “Technology is ruining _everything_. Everything was way better before bytes and data took over. Nobody reads books or plays outside anymore, they all have their noses glued to those damned digital screens!  People uploading selfies and counting likes, parents watching their kids grow through the lens of their smartphones, families eating in silence checking their devices instead of talking to each other!  Nobody cares for the fine art of clockmaking anymore, nobody appreciates the care and passion that goes into making a device that can follow the course of time. Not when you only have to press a button on those ridiculous contraptions to know what time it is!”

A flash of black suddenly caught Ladybug’s attention and she beamed.  Chat Noir ( _That is, Adrien!  Adrien, who was also Chat N- UGH, focus, Marinette!_ ) was joining the party at last, and she couldn’t be happier to see him.

Chat landed on the top of the building in front of her, flashing her his usual playful smirk and a wink. Words were no longer needed between them. Years of fighting side by side several times a week had exponentially strengthened their bond, making them an almost unbeatable team, and now knowing who was behind the masks shone a brand new light on their partnership, took their understanding of each other to an entirely new level.

Extending his staff, Chat jumped on the nearest roof, playfully screaming at the akuma, “Hey, Grandmother Time, catch me if you can!  Or do your joints hurt too much?”

Nostalgiak turned and glared sourly at the leather-clad hero vaulting away from her. “You impudent whippersnapper!  I’m going to teach you how to properly respect your superiors!”

Chat Noir felt a pleasant shiver go up his spine upon hearing those taunting words. This was it, the thrill of the chase he liked so much, the challenge he needed to push his limits a little bit further.  He knew the drill. Engage the foe while Ladybug examined and exploited their weaknesses.

Very aware of Nostalgiak hot on his trail, Chat Noir took off across the rooftops, running like his tail was on fire. He kept throwing silly taunts at his foe, making sure she was entirely focused on him and that she wouldn’t notice the beautiful, amazing, funny, charming, cuddly-- _“AUGH!”_  Chat Noir groaned, desperately trying to keep his tangled web of thoughts about his partner in check.

Yep. Focusing would really be the challenge of the day.

The akumatized woman continued shooting her beam, repeatedly but narrowly missing Chat Noir, and instead hit the numerous random objects and people they passed during their wild chase around Paris, turning them into a vintage version of themselves.  The hero knew they had to end this quickly lest all of Paris became a 1900’s postcard.

“Isn’t this a little extreme for a midlife crisis?”

“It’s time to teach you some manners, you feline miscreant,” Nostalgiak snarled through clenched teeth, walking steadily towards her target. “You want to fight? So be it.”  

Chat darted around the corner of the Arc de Triomphe and almost ran straight into... Nostalgiak, who was standing right in front of him!  He yelped ( _how did she get there so fast?!_ ) as he skidded to a stop.  She raised her clock with a wicked smile, and Chat Noir braced himself for the impact that was sure to come. But the next thing he knew, he was flying past the famous landmark, a lean but familiar muscular arm secured around his midsection.

“Sorry to interrupt, Minou,” Ladybug smiled at him shyly, an expression that seemed oddly out of place on her countenance, “but I just had to _whiskers_ you away from her. Can’t have her giving you a cane and grey hair, now can I?”

He chuckled in her comforting embrace, revelling in the feeling of her skin against his cheek. “What’s wrong, my Lady?  Don’t you want to grow old together?”

Whatever clever reply she may have had died in her throat, as Nostalgiak appeared in front of them on a neighboring roof and hit Ladybug square between the shoulders with her beam, rendering her breathless. Her momentum unexpectedly broken, she and Chat Noir fell and tumbled on the adjacent rooftop, both of them coughing dust from the rough landing out of their lungs and trying to regain their bearings.

Once Chat Noir managed to stand up again though, the pain of the impact was quickly forgotten in favor of shamelessly gawking at Ladybug.

For she was now standing in front of him, a shocked expression painted on her lovely face. Her usual red spotted mask had been replaced by a black Venetian mask with small white dots, with the edges painted red. The playful pigtails were gone too, in favour of a glamorous updo with loose curls gently framing her face. A black and red jewel held the top bun in place, and the lower bun rested at the nape of her neck.

The rest of her customary skintight suit had been dramatically altered too. A black leather plackart circled her entire midsection, and a scarlet ruffled skirt hung on her hips. Black lace gloves adorned her arms, and the high collar had a triangular opening just above the bust. Her legs were covered by black leather, and she wore sparkling red ankle boots tied at the back. The details of that new outfit were amazing, ranging from the ladybug elytra-shaped shoulder pads to the hard metal toes of her new shoes, making her more suitable for close ranged combat.

And her yo-yo was gone.

In lieu of her faithful weapon was now a _fan._

 

__

 

Ladybug stared at her brand new weapon, at a loss as to _how_ she was going to use it. It was an ornate fan, looking quite fancy but also extremely sturdy-feeling. It was obviously made of steel in between the (no doubt magical) cloth parts, adorned with black polka dots. Instinctively, she used it to block an incoming attack from Nostalgiak, and was delighted to find out it could act as a shield perfectly well. She experimented with its functionality as she and Chat Noir advanced on the akuma, alternatively using the fan to block attacks and sending it flying toward her foe like a boomerang. She missed her yo-yo, but even if the new weapon was different and challenging, she had to admit it was effective.

Luckily for Ladybug, her new outfit wasn’t impairing her movements in the slightest, allowing her to fight freely as usual.

Unluckily for Chat Noir, it suited her well. _Very_ well.

She was gorgeous, her clothes clinging to her figure in a most flattering way, and she looked even fiercer than usual as she engaged Nostalgiak with her fan, throwing it back and forth and deflecting the menacing rays that reverted everything to an antiquated state.

Still distracted by Ladybug’s outfit and weapon change, he managed to somersault away from a beam that was shot towards him; but he missed his landing, and he suddenly found himself freefalling down the side of the building.

He barely even had time to realize what was happening before his body collided with the contents of the alley’s dumpster, hard. The boxes underneath him thankfully minimized the damages, but he ended up stunned nonetheless, groaning in defeat as he took a second to regain his bearings and assess his current situation.

An obsessing thought then wormed its way into his mind, making him jolt out of his dazed state.

_Where was Ladybug? Where was his princess?_

He couldn’t protect her lying in a Chinese restaurant’s garbage. He had to find them, and fast.

Laboriously, Chat Noir extracted himself from the smelly dumpster, desperately trying to locate Ladybug and Nostalgiak.

“Useless mangy cat,” a threatening voice startled him from behind. “She took the hit for you and I’ve got you cornered yet again. How does it feel, failing her over and over?”

The hero spun on his heel, facing the angry akuma who was way too close to him for comfort. “Where is she?” he growled. “If you touch a single hair on her head I swear I’m going to end you.”

“Probably looking for me around the Champs-Élysées, that’s where I ditched that bothersome bug,” Nostalgiak smiled, a cold, creepy smile that sent shivers running down Chat’s spine. “But right now,” she went on, her expression still amused, “I have to make your ugly catsuit match hers, now don’t I?”

That’s all the warning Chat Noir got before getting hit square in the chest by one of Nostalgiak’s rays. He was thrown back and grunted as he fell onto the concrete.  He felt his suit morph around him, becoming something else entirely, and the staff he was holding also twitched and squirmed, thinning and lengthening itself until it became a fine and ornate rapier.

His mask had shifted into a similar Venetian styled mask like Ladybug’s, but with cat ear shaped protrusions at the top adorning the corners.  He now sported a black double-breasted blazer with sturdy leather gloves that reached mid-forearm. A large hood was attached to the blazer, covering most of his head but leaving enough room for the ears of his mask to stick out.  

“Much better,” she mockingly cooed.  “At least you’ll have the honor of being more fashionable when I defeat you and take your Miraculous.”

“How… how did you do that? How can you move so fast?” he breathed, beside himself with worry about Ladybug. Where was she? How had the akuma managed to get rid of her so easily?

Nostalgiak chuckled, taking a menacing step toward him. “Being able to play with time has its perks.” She raised the arm holding the clock, chuckling softly, “for example, try to dodge _this._ ”

Before Chat Noir could even blink, Nostalgiak materialized directly in front of him and clocked him on the head, hard. He wobbled on his feet, dizzied, and before he could move away Nostalgiak kicked him straight in the gut and he crumpled to the ground.  He coughed and sputtered as she lifted him up by his forearm, reaching for the stunned hero’s ring with her other hand.

“Any last words as Chat Noir?” the akuma cackled, “Before I free you of the burden of being a superhero?”

Before Nostalgiak’s fingers could so much as brush against the cool metal of the ring, though, Ladybug abruptly landed next to her and her partner, parrying Nostalgiak away with her fan.

Crouching into a defensive stance, Ladybug glared at their foe, a protective hand on Chat Noir’s shoulder as he groaned in pain. “You will _not_ touch him,” she panted, seemingly out of breath.  “Not on my watch.”

The disoriented Chat snickered at her unintentional pun and Ladybug couldn’t help but roll her eyes fondly.  At least he was alright.

Nostalgiak’s face twisted into a cruel snarl and lunged for Ladybug, the latter parrying at the last second and desperately trying to come up with a strategy.

Hope was slipping through her fingers like water. Nostalgiak was _strong_ , and she always seemed to conveniently be one step ahead of them, no matter what they tried. It made her a formidable enemy, one that was quickly wearing their resources thin.

Ladybug had to put an end to this madness. And _fast_.

She promptly grabbed Chat Noir’s hand and dashed away, running as fast as she could from the akuma. She barely managed to dodge Nostalgiak’s incoming attack, and she knew she had to act quickly if she wanted a chance at victory. “LUCKY CHARM!” she called out, praying that she’d get something not too cryptic, allowing her to solve their precarious situation as soon as possible.

Unfortunately, her magic gifted her with a universal remote control.

 _A_ _remote?!_

Desperate to find a use for that odd lucky charm, Ladybug frantically looked around her, searching for an idea. _Anything_ that could help them.

“My Lady?” Chat Noir tentatively said, “I think the akuma is in that oversized clock, but other than that I’ve got nothing. Do you have a plan?”

Her darting blue eyes landed on a nearby electronic store, and an idea began to sprout in her mind.

“Chat? Is that sword sturdy enough to vault us both over there?” she asked, not realizing her hand was still safely clutched within his.

Chat Noir grinned, pulling her close by the waist. Ladybug could feel her cheeks heat up under the mask. “How about we find out?” His usual flirty demeanor as Chat felt different now that she knew that it was Adrien under the mask, and her heart sped up substantially as a result of his coquettish grin.  She quickly nodded and looked away shyly, then set her head against his chest, holding on tight to prepare for the long vault.

 

 

 

Thankfully, the stylish rapier seemed to work just like his staff, extending when he willed it (though not as much as the staff) after a running start. With Nostalgiak close on their heels, he somehow successfully vaulted them both toward the small shop, an exhilarating grin on his face. It felt good to be able to do something normal amidst the chaos, to keep _one_ of his usual abilities.

As soon as they landed, Ladybug stormed into the shop and past the “ _Employees Only”_ sign. Chat Noir followed her, curious about what clever plan his lady could have come up with, but also painfully conscious that Nostalgiak wasn’t far behind.

“See that panel?” his partner asked, pointing to a box protected with a heavy lock. “It should control what’s displayed in the televisions in the shop. Now that I know that you’re actually quite tech-savvy, Minou, can you program each television to play a different film or TV show? Be sure to make a lot of noise.”

“I’m on it, Princess,” he replied with a confident smirk, and promptly Cataclysmed the lock. As his fingers clacked on the keyboard, Ladybug squeezed his shoulder and flashed him a grateful smile.

“Thanks, Kitty,” she said, running back into the other room just as Nostalgiak walked in.

 

A wicked grin spread on the akuma’s face, one of her rays hitting a television and turning it into a chalkboard. “Where are you, you bothersome rapscallions? Stop trying to hide, it’s useless.”

Ladybug slid under a stand, powering as many televisions as she could on her way. Chat Noir was doing an amazing job backstage, various shows and movies displaying on the screens. From old reruns of _Friends_ to the most recent season of _Voltron,_ there was something that suited everyone’s tastes.

Nostalgiak seemed to think otherwise, however, as she turned every single screen to a blank blackboard as she walked, still monologuing about the greatness of the past versus today’s slavery to technology.

The cat and mouse game went on, Ladybug hiding from her foe as her earrings began to beep. The akuma attacked every screen, walking through the shop with a scowl on her face. The superheroine refused to give up, though, and kept turning on every single device she could.

It was all they had left.  It _had_ to work.

Nostalgiak reached the back of the store, and Ladybug felt hope flutter within her chest. There was a single television left. Had she been wrong? Had she led Chat and her to a dead end?

Thankfully, Chat Noir seemed to have been on top of things.

_Again._

Because when Nostalgiak walked in front of the last television, she suddenly froze and gasped, “It’s the one where Mr. Pamuk dies in Lady Mary’s bedroom!”

Ladybug smirked as she noticed a _Downtown Abbey_ episode playing on that screen. “ _Bullseye, Kitty,_ ” she thought, reaching for her fan on her hip. Chat Noir seemed to read her thoughts, reappearing on her side of the “ _Employees Only”_ door, rapier ready in hand.

Nostalgiak was completely engrossed in the episode, watching intently how Lady Mary, her maid Anna, and Lady Grantham dragged Mr. Pamuk’s body back to his own room to avoid an _unseemly_ scandal. Chat Noir threw his sword and it flew like an arrow, shooting through the clock and impaling it against the wall.

As the purple butterfly flew out of the remnants of the clock, Ladybug asked her partner, “Do you think I can cleanse it with this thing?”

“We won’t know until we try it, My Lady,” he answered encouragingly as he watched Nostalgiak, still too captivated by her show to even notice what had just happened.

With a grin, Ladybug nodded and swiftly caught the blackened butterfly with her fan. “No more evildoing for you, little butterfly,” she said, releasing the now sparkling white butterfly into the sky.

One universal remote thrown in the air and a magical cleanse later, Ladybug and Chat Noir were back to their usual, more modern selves. The feline squealed in delight when his clawed fingers wrapped around his staff again, and he pressed an exaggeratedly loud kiss on top of it. “I missed you sooo much!”

Ladybug giggled and rolled her eyes at her partner’s antics, but she had to admit that the familiar feeling of having her yoyo back on her hip was very comforting. She raised her fist as the magic surrounded them, smiling at him warmly. “Hey, kitty.”

The smile that Chat Noir flashed her then almost melted her heart on the spot. It was her partner’s giddy smile, her giant goofball of a dork she adored so much. But it was also _Adrien._ Adrien who had _kissed_ her earlier, even knowing that she was, well, _her._

“ _Bien joué,”_ they breathed, in perfect sync.

That fistbump was the moment the magic chose to repair the first thing it had broken during that fight.

The handcuffs.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Updates usually happen every 6-8 weeks, so please continue to refrain from asking when the next chapter will be posted. Thanks for reading! ^___^
> 
>  
> 
> Edit: Here's the reference we were going off of for the akuma: https://i.imgur.com/qJ1F5gE.jpg  
> I wanted to give her a panel of her own but I had already drawn lots of pictures for this chapter so I decided I'd rather update sooner rather than (even) later.


	8. Aftermath (I See the Light)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien and Marinette have revealed their identities to each other.... NOW WHAT?? How will this change their budding new relationship? Will they be able to feel comfortable around each other again?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've been having a bit of art block for the past month or so. Everything feels harder to draw and takes me a lot longer than usual. Writing-wise, there was a lot that needed to be changed and added in the rough draft, too, so that was a challenge for me as well since I'm still new to writing fanfiction. Anyway, it's finally finished though, I hope you enjoy it!!
> 
> (As you may have guessed, the chapter title is a flashback to the events of chapter 2. Give it a listen while reading!)

As soon as the cold metal of the handcuffs closed around their wrists again, both Chat Noir and Ladybug knew that they were totally and utterly screwed.

_Again._

They could hear the rising commotion as people emerged from their hiding spots and shelters.  In a few moments their current location would become overrun with civilians.

“Adr- Chat--!” Ladybug looked over at him breathlessly, on the verge of panic, glancing over at the dazed woman formerly known as Nostalgiak, who was massaging her temples.

Instead of helping and comforting the akuma victim as they normally would, Adrien realized that their biggest priority had now become getting away from any prying eyes, and _fast_ .  Because, let’s face it, it wouldn’t be hard for people to make the connection between Ladybug and Chat Noir in handcuffs to their civilian selves. The last thing they needed right now was someone _else_ finding out the secret behind the masks.  The fact that they had been forced to reveal their identities to each other just a short time before was overwhelming enough.

Chat Noir quickly gained his composure, twirling Ladybug around the same way she had done with him at the start of the akuma attack and picked her up, then prepared to vault out of sight.

He hastily called out to the woman, “SORRYGOTTAGOWEHOPEYOUFEELBETTER, BYE!!” as he darted out of the building and leaped high onto the rooftops.  He sprinted as fast as he could, anxious to put as much distance as possible between them and any curious onlooker, racing against the clock before their transformations gave out.  

Marinette’s time expired shortly after their takeoff into the rooftops.  She pressed closer against Chat as her transformation dropped, seeking (and finding) comfort in his familiar embrace as the wind whipped around them.  Chat held her tighter, wordlessly reassuring her.

 

 

He could feel her shaking; was it from the cold or out of apprehension?  He wasn’t sure. She felt so small, so vulnerable. So much had happened in such a short amount of time and there had been no time to process it.  Adrenaline coursed through his veins as he nervously anticipated the conversation he would be having with Marinette in a few short minutes.

 

Chat took them back to the school in case people decided to look for them there, now that the miraculous cure had brought everything and everyone back to normal.  

Trying to sneak in through a library window proved to be a tougher challenge than anticipated, as the pair tugged and shuffled through the small space, sharing some suppressed awkward giggles at their predicament.  They landed in a narrow, deserted row between bookcases and Chat finally dropped his transformation as the last of the toe pads on his ring blinked. Now that they no longer had a pressing threat, (and the repaired handcuffs made sure they couldn’t part ways without confronting each other about their secret identities) they stood silently almost chest to chest in these _very_ close quarters, staring at each other with something akin to awe, their cheeks flushed from the effort of squeezing through the window.  Or, most likely, due to something more.

“So, uh…” Adrien drawled out, shifting nervously from one foot to the other, extending a hand to take hers before thinking better of it and reaching back to awkwardly scratch his neck instead.

Before Marinette could reply, Tikki flew in front of her, buzzing with excitation. “Guys! That fight was amazing! We hadn’t seen those outfits in decades!”

Marinette giggled at her kwami’s antics, thankful how it had seemingly dissipated some tension lingering between her and her partner. She playfully poked her little friend on the belly. “Yeah, those were pretty awesome. So, you guys actually had a Ladybug and Chat Noir that wore those suits?”

“Yeah, those are our creations,”  Plagg chimed in as he flew out of Adrien’s overshirt.  “Alice and Jack’s outfits. They were our holders around… what was it, Tikki? 1910?”

“Jack and Alice? Yes, that’s right. Their daughter was born in 1917, remember? She would munch on Plagg’s ears and couldn’t go to sleep without holding him. That drove him crazy.”

Adrien chuckled, “Plagg being used as a chew toy? I’d have to see it to believe it.”

Plagg blew a raspberry, making himself comfortable on the top of Adrien’s hair. “Alice and Jack were a really good pair.”

“Alice was also into fashion, Marinette, you would’ve liked her,” Tikki added, nuzzling against her charge’s cheek.

 

 

 

 

“Now that I think about it,” Plagg smirked, “Jack kissed Alice first, too.”

A fiery blush spread on both teenager’s cheeks upon hearing those words, and Tikki loudly gasped, “I know! Wasn’t it the cutest thing?”  

Plagg snickered. “You should’ve seen the look on your faces when you each transformed!”

Marinette let out a long groan, burying her face in her palms as her blush intensified. Adrien noticed how tensed her shoulders were and became worried about her reaction. Were they back to square one? To the stuttering and shy girl who couldn’t even look him in the eye?

“Hey, Mari, stop freaking out,” he said, putting his hands on her shoulders so she would face him. “It’s just _me_.”

Hearing those words, Marinette looked up at him and stammered. “But… You’re not _just_ you! You’re _Adrien Agreste_ !” She waved her hands up and down his frame for emphasis.  “You’re Paris’ heartthrob, a fashion icon, you have more fencing trophies than I can count; you’re so friendly and nice that it’s pretty much impossible to dislike you! You’re… you’re _amazing_ , Adrien.”  Her lips stretched into a small, timid smile and she added quietly, “But… Now I know that you’re even _more_ than that.  You’re my Chat Noir.  Chat is my best friend. He’s sweet, smart, funny, brave.  I’d do anything for him… for _you_.”

Adrien gaped at her, taken aback by her declaration.  “Do… do you really think that? That’s really how you see me?  B-but why? Marinette, _you’re_ the amazing one!”  He looked away, almost ashamed, not able to meet her eyes.  “Underneath the big name, I’m just… nobody. You deserve someone better as a partner, someone that saves _you_ more often than they need saving.  Nostalgiak was right. I’ve failed you time and time again.  I don’t deserve all your praise.”

“Oh, Adrien…” Marinette touched his cheek and gently turned his head; her eyes bore into his.  “I meant every word of what I said to your father. I am _so proud_ of you.”  Her bound hand found his and she intertwined their fingers together. “You have the busiest schedule I have ever seen for a seventeen-year-old, plus I just found out you’re saving Paris a few times a week on top of everything, and yet you always make time for your friends. You’re the kindest person I know, both in and outside the mask.” Her blush went a few shades redder; she dropped her hand and looked away from him. “I-in fact, Adrien’s the only thing that kept Ladybug from falling for Chat Noir.”

Adrien stilled in front of her, staring at her like a deer in headlights. “What? Do you mean...?”

 _This is it. It’s now or never_ . _Tell him how much he means to you,_ Marinette’s mind coaxed.

 

 

 

 

She continued, “I always kept our superhero relationship strictly professional because I had a major and _embarrassingly_ huge crush on someone else.”  

Adrien visibly swallowed. “Are… Are you really saying… All the nervousness, the running away from me…?”

She looked up at him shyly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “I’ve had the most massive, awkward crush on you all throughout lycée, Adrien.”

Adrien gaped at her for a few moments, then squeezed his eyes shut and chuckled incredulously.  “What a pair we make.” He reached out and grabbed both her hands and steeled himself to continue.  “Since we’re both discovering new things about each other, I’ll have you know... I’ve been madly in love with Ladybug since the day we met.”  

Marinette let out a small gasp and her eyes grew wide.  

“But, you know,” Adrien continued, a slight tremor in his voice, “I happen to like the Marinette I’ve gotten to know in the past few days. _A lot_ . She’s fun, caring and outgoing, and I can’t help but wonder how is it that I never noticed just how incredible she was before. It all makes so much sense now.”

She beamed at him, the kind of smile that would put the stars to shame. “And I really like the Adrien I got to see these past couple of days, too. You seemed more comfortable, more free, and I liked that a lot. And… now that I think of it, it’s so similar to my Kitty. The side of Adrien you let me see is just so… _Chat_.  After all,” she teased with a playful glint in her eyes, “you two share a disgusting love of lame puns.”

“Why, My Lady!” he gasped, draping his free hand dramatically over his heart. “My puns are purr-fectly a-mew-zing, I’ll have you know!”

The two laughed like they usually did, their banter bringing a sense of normalcy back into the situation. After a few moments, Marinette’s giggles subsided as she noticed the way he was adoringly staring at her, and she found herself lost in a sea of green.

“I can’t believe my luck,” he said, his voice somewhat raspy. “I fell in love with the same amazing girl _two times._ I’m so glad that you like me, Marinette. I’m speechless, honestly.”

Marinette looked at him then, setting her gaze straight into his eyes. There was a brand new fire in her eyes, something that definitely wasn’t there before. “I did too, you know.”

“What?” he said softly.

Marinette rested her free hand on his arm and, burying her jittery nerves as deep as she could, she said softly, “Knowing that you’re my best friend, my partner, I… it changes everything. It adds a whole other layer to our relationship. I already loved _Adrien_ , but now I realize that I’m in love with _all_ of you. With my best friend, my sweet, dorky _Chaton_.”

Adrien smiled at her, stepping closer. So close that he could smell her perfume, could tell she smelled subtly of cinnamon and vanilla.  “I love you too, Marinette. I’ve spent the last few days falling for the other side of you, falling hard. It was confusing to me that I’d developed such strong feelings for my friend when I was already in love with My Lady.”

Marinette lifted misty eyes toward Adrien, her back pressed against the rows of books. “I… I don’t know about you, but…. I would like _more_ than friendship.”

“I want more too,” Adrien grinned. “Marinette, I _love_ you. I want to be with you.”

Adrien stepped even closer to Marinette and wrapped his arm around her waist, Marinette’s arm lifted up towards his neck, closing her fingers around the back of his head, softly ruffling his hair, sporting a giddy, wide-eyed grin.

“I love you too, _Minou_.”

The teary smile Adrien flashed her upon hearing those words made her insides melt. _She_ was the reason he was grinning like a lovesick fool. She stared at him, knowing her own expression matched his.

He leaned in, their eyes fluttering closed, their lips just a breath away. He could almost taste her lip gloss, almost feel the warmth of her skin.

 

 

 

 

Suddenly, Plagg abruptly zoomed into Adrien’s collar and Tikki quickly phased into Marinette’s purse, and the pair sprung apart just as the school’s librarian walked past the end of the row. “M. Agreste? Mlle Dupain-Cheng? What are you doing here? School ended a little while ago.”

Adrien was the first to regain his bearings, flashing his best model smile. “We have a group research project in Literature due next week. We figured we could get a head start.”  Next to him, Marinette offered her a wide (though not entirely convincing) toothy smile.

The librarian quirked an eyebrow skeptically, eyeing their matching blushes.  “In the computer science section?” The pair stiffened and avoided her gaze, and she tried hard not to smirk. “Anyway, I’m closing up for the day now. Hurry home, both of you.”

They hurried out of the library, their fingers closely intertwined and suppressing uncontrollable giggles.

 

As they walked down the sidewalk toward the bakery, Adrien chuckled lightly. “There is no real way of saying this without sounding like a total douche, so I’ll just say it: my place or yours tonight?”

Marinette laughed, “To answer your ‘douchey’ question, I kinda enjoyed your immense bed way better than my chaise. Plus, we can actually shower at your place. My shower is too tiny for us both to fit in there.”

At the bakery, they somehow managed to escape Sabine’s fussing unscathed (“ _Have a croissant, Adrien!  A growing young man like you needs a proper diet to stay healthy and strong. There’s lots more food upstairs, too. Honey, why are you wearing one of his shirts? Didn’t you pack a change of clothes yesterday evening? Be sure to pack some extra clothes, just in case.”_ ) and slipped into Marinette’s bedroom.

Once the hatch closed, Plagg and Tikki instantly emerged from their respective hiding spots and zipped away together. Tikki stopped briefly to wink at Marinette before joining Plagg on her miniature handmade bed.

“Your mom is awesome, can she adopt me?” Adrien chuckled softly, tentatively pulling Marinette into a hug. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach when she leaned her head on his shoulder, her lips tantalizingly close to his neck.

Marinette giggled in his hold, resting her forehead against his. “Well, knowing my mom she would if you asked. But then we wouldn’t be able to date,” she answered coyly.

“Oh, does that mean we are dating now?” he replied playfully, planting a featherlight kiss on her forehead. “I wasn’t aware. Don’t I have to ask you out or something beforehand?”

“I think that if two people have already confessed their _I love you’s,_ it’s pretty safe to assume they are dating. In any case, Adrien Agreste, will you be my boyfriend?”

He grinned, one of those soft, genuine smiles that made Marinette weak in the knees.

“Of course I’ll be your boyfriend, my Princess, I would be honored to. Maybe someday it’ll be me asking _you_ a very important question?”

Marinette giggled with a blush.  “You’re getting ahead of yourself, _Chaton_ ,” she teased. “How about we talk about that in due time?”

Adrien slapped the back of his hand on his forehead, sighing dramatically. “My Lady refused my proposal, woe is me!”

Marinette laughed heartily and blew a raspberry. “Stop being theatrical, kitty cat, and help me find some clothes that’ll be suitable for school. The last thing I need on top of everything is to get sent to the Principal's due to a dress code violation.”

He chuckled softly, following her to the closet. She rummaged through the racks of clothes, softly muttering to herself. “Too tacky, too sexy, too short, not handcuffs friendly…”

Adrien laughed out loud, his voice lilting jovially. “I wouldn’t mind sexy, you know. Whatever you end up wearing, you’ll be the prettiest woman in France.”

“Watch it, your Chat is showing,” Marinette laughed (but turned her head to try to hide her blush), then returned to the task at hand.

He let his attention wander, looking around the closet, and his eyes fell on a stack of papers lying just within his reach on a shelf. He grabbed them for closer inspection, curious about what a bunch of messy papers were doing amongst the explosion of fabric.

He wouldn’t ever have expected to be faced with dozens of Adriens looking back at him.

And not the magazine photos and official pictures that ended up on billboards, the kinds you would expect to find in the room of a girl set on landing an internship with his father’s company.

No.

What he was holding was a pretty heavy stack of various photos of himself, taken by friends and family over the course of the past few years. Pictures of him laughing, acting silly, _smiling._ On some of them he was alone, but more often than not Nino was grinning beside him, or Alya was sticking finger bunny ears on someone. Marinette was in many pictures as well, a warm smile always on her lips.

 

 

 

 

“Mari?” he asked, bewildered, “why are all these in your closet?”

She looked up from the sleeveless dress she was examining, and her eyes widened when she saw what he was holding. She let out a lengthy shriek, as if she was sitting on a chair full of tacks.  

“OHHHH NONONONO, OH NO, OH NO, OH CRAP!!   _That’s_ where she hid them?!”  She waved her arms frantically as if she was swatting imaginary flies and continued babbling incoherently; he couldn’t recall ever seeing her this flustered.

 

 

 

 

Adrien smirked and stared at the photos in his hands, eyebrows raised incredulously. “ Why would you want to hide these? I think it’s sweet.”

Marinette sputtered, “Well yeah, _now_ you do, now that awkward confessions are out of the way. But how would have felt stepping into my room and seeing your face plastered everywhere? You would’ve thought I was the world’s biggest creep! I texted my mom on our way back from the museum on Saturday and asked her to remove all of these pictures from my walls to avoid this exact embarrassing situation.”  She grabbed the nearest article of clothing and shoved her face into it, as if it would somehow shield her from any potential humiliation.

Adrien lifted his gaze from the pile of photos and asked, “I noticed there aren’t any of my modeling pictures in there, how come?”

Marinette tentatively raised her head from the dress she was holding and replied, “Well…. I... don’t really like those anymore,” Marinette replied honestly. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re-   **_they’re!_ ** \- gorgeous and I used to have them all over my room. But when Alya and I started to hang out more with you and Nino, I realized that I didn’t really know anything about you, and those photos reminded me of that.”

“But then...” she chuckled, and Adrien idly wondered if he could become addicted to a sound. “We became friends,” she went on, “and we got to know each other better. And once I got to witness it firsthand, I very much prefer your genuine smile, not the one you make for photographers. So little by little, I replaced the professional, retouched ones with more authentic ones.”

Adrien stood there for a minute, words failing him. Ever since his mother had been gone, he craved love, craved even only a little bit of human interaction. He had been dying for someone to pay attention to _him._ Not the perfect façade his father had crafted, but _him_ , the imperfect boy behind the mask.

And there was this amazing young woman willing to offer it all to him. To _Adrien._ She had been paying enough attention to him to notice the difference in his smiles. Had chosen the flawed boy over the flawless puppet.

She loved _him._

She was looking at him, holding the handmade halter dress to her chest.  It was a scarlet top blooming into a black full skirt with white polka dots.

“You should pick that one,” he breathed, unable to tear his gaze away from her face.

Marinette blinked slowly, staring at him. “Huh?”

“This dress you made, it’s beautiful.  Picture-perfect, even.” he grinned. “And _this_ ,” he added, holding up the stack of pictures, “means more to me than you could ever imagine.”

Her eyes widened and she pressed the dress even further against her chest. “What?” she gasped. “You don’t think it’s weird that I had pictures of you all over my room?”

Adrien scoffed good-naturedly.  “I’ll let Plagg give you a personal tour of my Ladybug ‘shrine’ once we get to my house so you don’t feel that bad, okay?” he answered, his free arm lacing around her waist and his forehead resting against hers.

Marinette couldn’t hold in a giggle at that, burying her head into his shoulder. “R-really?”

“Yep,” he said, popping out the “p”. “I have all the cool merch, the action figures, even that neat little yoyo that really opens and says-” he added with a falsetto, “‘Bye-bye little butterfly’.”

She laughed heartily in his hold, her free hand reaching up to his face. “We’re both huge dorks, you know that?”

“Maybe, but we’re dorks who are in love. So that’s alright,” Adrien beamed, resisting the urge to lean into her hand like an actual cat.

Instead, he did the next best thing.

He lifted his own hand to cup her cheek and lightly stroked it with his thumb.  He leaned in, searching her eyes for approval. She closed them and tilted her head back in response.  

Adrien pressed his lips to hers, gently at first. Marinette gasped softly in the embrace, and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, pulling her against his chest.  She sighed contentedly and closed her eyes, then tossed the dress over the closest chair so she could properly grab him and pull him even closer. His hand moved further down, finding her silky, raven hair and threading it through his fingers.

Their kissing grew more insistent, more desperate, due to years of longing and (unknowingly mutual) pining.  

“M-Marinette...” Adrien said in between peppered kisses.  “I’m… so… glad… it was you…”

Marinette sighed blissfully as they kissed, then closed the space between them even more by firmly tugging Adrien by the shirt collar, then flipped them around so his back was pressed against the inside of the closet.  He let out a surprised mewl, then responded with equal vigor.

In the small space of Marinette’s closet, a deep purr could distinctively be heard.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this one! The fluff was so strong, it gave me a couple of cavities, my dentist is gonna make a fortune! XD 
> 
> Anyway, just one more chapter left! Can you believe it?! Updates usually happen every 6-8 weeks, so as usual, please continue to refrain from asking when the next chapter will be posted. Thanks for reading!


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